Israel
by GeorgeAndrews
Summary: 'The heart is thus extinguished. The blood in the veins grows cold. And all strength has gone. Faith has been extolled by the fall into the arms of death.' A story about choice, loss, guilt, chance and love. Rated M as a warning for death of a main character. Danny/Lindsay, Mac/Flack.
1. Chapter 1

**ISRAEL**

**A/N - Please read the intro below first otherwise my story will not make a whole bunch of sense.**

**DISCLAIMER: **Proper disclaimer on my author page but as I borrow a few lines from 9x17 in Chapter One am reiterating - no money made, just for fun and appreciation.

**SPOILERS:** Consider every single episode in jeopardy.

**WARNINGS:** Please heed my warnings as I don't want to upset anyone. Bad language, non-graphic m/m and f/m relationships, homophobia, graphic torture scene, graphic death of a canon character and upsetting sequences resulting because of that. If any of that bothers or upsets you please don't read this. It may start out rather fluffy but it isn't, that's just the build up.

**BACKGROUND INFORMATION:** This story begins right at the end of episode 9x17. Everything in the show is canon but because I have created a Mac/Flack relationship I have made two changes. Christine Whitney does not exist in S8 & S9 and Jamie Lovato simply becomes friends with Flack and has a relationship with Hawkes instead. Mac/Flack isn't exactly my cup of tea but in the story it was necessary for Mac to be in a relationship with a character who's in every season. It couldn't be Danny and I chose Flack over Hawkes as I think it's more believable.

My story has lots of flashbacks in it, at least one per chapter and they will always be written in _Italics_. As soon as the style changes back to normal the flashback has finished. I'll put in an author's note at the bottom of each chapter to say which episode the flashback(s) is supposedly from.

I just wanted to do a brief history to Mac/Flack's relationship so that the flashbacks make more sense. - Start dating in S2x01 and breakup between S2 & S3. During S3 Mac dates Flack in a secretive 'on again-off again' fashion while dating Peyton at the same time. In S4 Flack gets over Mac leaving for London with Peyton and falls in love with Jess. S5 happens as is. S6 happens as is. S7 Mac and Flack start falling in love again. S8x02 they start dating again and that lasts throughout S8 & S9.

So on with the story...

* * *

**Israel - Chapter One**

As police officers in this big, complicated city we see so much bad. So many souls filled with hatred and violence and it's our job to look for them, chase after them and confront them. Over time they can become all we see. As with all evil some good will always come from it. It can bring us together with some of the most dedicated, honourable, kind-hearted people we could ever hope to meet. It can fill hearts with a love so strong that it will endure forever and create unbreakable friendships that will last even in the face of life's most difficult challenges.

Sometimes the good comes when we most need it and least expect it. If we are lucky enough to notice it, set our eyes upon it and appreciate it, it can almost make us forget all of the bad. Today is life, the only life you're sure of, make the most of today. Words of wisdom, a slice of goodness passed on by an innocent soul whose life was cut short by an errant bullet. These are words that will always stay with me, words that are about to change the course of my life forever.

* * *

Mac looked exhaustedly around the bullpen that had been mostly tidied of the earlier mess caused by the angry protestors. His eyes flitted to the door as it was pushed open but the person whom he sought was not the one to enter through it. Today had been hard. Harder than he would have guessed when he'd arrived at work that morning. His stomach clenched as he remembered seeing Don collapsed on the floor of the lobby, struggling to get up with some perp beating down on top of him. He had lost it for a moment, seething with anger as he tore the man away from Don and rushed him away from the crowd to safety. That had been careless. If the other cops hadn't been so occupied with the protestors they might have noticed how the concern he showed for Don's welfare was something more than simply comradeship. It was love.

Yes, today had been hard. In fact, that whole month had been hard. It hadn't been since the day Claire had died that he'd felt the numb terror that had possessed him when Don had been kidnapped only a couple of weeks before. He'd thought that had been the end; that he'd never get Don back, that he'd never get to say so many of the things that he'd wanted to for a very long time.

But he had got him back. He had found him and clutched him tight to his chest, afraid to ever let him go again, to ever be parted from him once more. But of course, life moved on. For today is life, the only life you're sure of, make the most of today.

"Mac!"

A voice tore through Mac's thoughts and he looked up smiling. The owner of said voice, the young man whom he sought, was making his way over to him through the desks and remaining officers.

"Don," Mac said quietly.

"Where've you been? Everyone's up on the roof. We're having a bit of a gathering. Hawkes and Adam brought beer!"

Don's face broke out into a wonky grin as he mentioned the beer and Mac found it hard not to laugh at the younger man's slight excitement. Yes, Don was fine. He was okay. Mac needn't have worried for his safety today.

"I was looking for you," Mac said softly.

"Why? What's up?" asked Don, immediately concerned.

"I wanted to talk to you...before we join the others," Mac said.

"Sure. What about?" Don asked.

"Not here," Mac murmured. He stood up and disappeared into the corridor housing the interrogation rooms. He entered one of the few that didn't have a two way mirror and then proceeded to draw the blinds closed to make sure they had the utmost privacy.

"What's going on, Mac?" Don was stood in the doorway, watching him carefully, his head slightly tilted to one side.

"Shut the door," Mac ordered as he drew the last blind.

Don sighed wearily and entered the small room, closing the door after him. Then he waited patiently for Mac to speak. There seemed to be something on his mind, something bothering him and that worried Don. Even though it was usual for Mac to have something on his mind he seemed different tonight, somehow more emotional. Not at all like himself. However, just as Don deemed it necessary to repeat his previous question Mac spoke.

"This is not how I imagined it would happen. I...I don't know if it's how you imagined it would happen or if you even imagined it happening at all," Mac stammered nervously.

Don frowned in confusion. He had no idea what Mac was talking about. "I'm not sure what you're saying. Let's go upstairs, have a beer. Then we can grab some food after..."

Don made to leave but felt his hand suddenly grabbed by the older man. He turned back to look at Mac but was instead pulled close to the other man's body. Mac held him tight for a moment, as though gaining courage from his body being so close.

"No. No, no, no. Stay here. I don't want to wait another minute," Mac murmured.

Mac looked up into the eyes of the man he'd loved for so long. Had wanted for so long but had denied himself of for almost just as long. He loved, Don. Loved him like nothing else in the world.

"I don't have a ring, or a speech. I wasn't even able to stop and pick up a cheap bottle of champagne."

Don swallowed dryly as an idea came to him of what was happening here, right at that very moment, in that very room, in his precinct.

Mac continued on. "I never thought I'd feel like this again. You're everything that's good in my life." Mac paused as he sought the words he so desperately wanted. "We've been through so much together. I need you Don, I want you. I...I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want to spend...I just want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side."

Mac took a step away from Don and knelt on the cold, hard ground of the interrogation room. Don's eyes widened in shock and Mac found himself hoping against hope that he was doing the right thing. It felt right to him. He wanted this, wanted Don more than anything else in the world, including his career. He only hoped that Don felt the same.

"Don, will you marry me?" He asked nervously, eyes staring sincerely into the bright blue ones of his friend, colleague and lover, Don Flack.

Don swallowed again and then answered unhesitatingly. "Yes. Of course I will."

Don pulled Mac up off the floor and into his arms, leaning down and kissing him hard. He didn't care who saw, who might enter the room at any moment. He'd just been proposed to and this was the happiest moment of his entire life. He smiled as they broke apart and started laughing.

"This is exactly how I imagined it," he whispered into Mac's ear.

"I love you," Mac replied as he too smiled and hugged Don closer to him.

"I love you too," Don returned as they kissed again.

"I'm sorry I waited so long..." Mac started.

"No!" Don broke away looking seriously at Mac. "Let's not start this again. This is the happiest moment of my life, Mac. So let's not start apologising for all the mistakes we've made in the past...all the excuses and reasons why we never got together sooner. We've done that already. All that matters now is that we are together, that we're happy and we're making a life for ourselves...together."

"You're right," Mac smiled. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I just...if we're doing this, I want to do it properly. Our relationship has always been marred by regret or concern for what others may think. From now on, it's just you and me. That's all that's important...and our future, not the past."

Mac smiled at the younger man stood in front of him, the expression on his face so serious.

"When did you suddenly become so wise?" he smirked.

"I learnt from the best," Don replied, giving him a slight wink. "Now, what do you wanna do? Go upstairs and join the others or go someplace quieter?"

"That depends. Will you be staying at my place tonight?"

Don laughed loudly. "That, Mac Taylor, was one of the stupidest questions I've heard you ask. You just proposed to me, of course I want to stay with you. And in case you've forgotten I practically live at yours anyway."

"I guess that's one of the things we'll need to sort out...living arrangements. And of course what we'll do about work and who we'll tell and..." Mac started to frown.

"Mac?" Don interrupted.

"Hmmm?" Mac asked as he refocused on the man before him.

"Shut up and kiss me."

Mac smiled and kissed his now fiancé on the lips.

"Let's go upstairs and have a few beers with the others. Maybe we could tell them the good news? And then we'll go back to yours and celebrate in a more personal way. How does that sound?" asked Don.

"Yeah, good. Sorry. I'm a bit of a mumbling fool at the moment."

"You did great, Mac. Although you really didn't need to kneel down, I'm not a girl."

"I'm well aware of that fact, Don. But I wanted to do at least one part correctly as I didn't have anything else."

"It was perfect, Mac. Really," Don said honestly.

"Just like you," Mac replied as he walked past Don to open the door.

"Soppy..." Don snickered as he shook his head.

Mac held the door open for him and swatted his ass as he walked past.

* * *

"So what did Danny say to you?" Mac asked as he unlocked the door to his apartment and let Don in first before following him inside and closing the door behind him.

"Hmm?" Don hummed as he disappeared into the kitchen.

"I said, what did Danny say to you? And shoes off," Mac repeated as he followed Don to the kitchen and paused in the doorway.

Don was bending over, head in the fridge and Mac could hear the clinking of jars and bottles as the younger man obviously searched for something.

"You want something? I kinda fancy pasta. We have some left over from last night, don't we?" Don asked as he toed off his boots whilst still rummaging in the fridge.

Mac sighed wearily and went to pick up the boots, disappearing into the hallway to place them neatly in the closet beside his own. He removed his jacket and hung that up too before returning to the kitchen. Something was now heating in the microwave and Don was sitting at the counter sucking on a spoon. A jar of half eaten peanut butter lay open before him. He grinned childishly as Mac re-entered the room and his eyes shone. Mac raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything; he was used to Don's queer eating habits by now. He walked to the fridge and got himself out a beer. He'd already had three on the roof but it had been a tough and exciting day and he felt he'd earned one more.

Once he and Don had got up to the roof they'd joined everyone in a toast and then sat happily drinking and joking together for a while. He'd told Danny first in private when a moment had risen. Lindsay was busy discussing baby names with Jo and Sid so he'd taken Danny aside and revealed the good news. He thought back to the younger man's reaction.

_"Danny, I have something to tell you."_

_Danny's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's up, Mac? Is it that we're having another kid because Linds and I have been discussing that. We're going to make it work somehow around work..."_

_"No, no, no. It's nothing like that. I already told you how pleased I am for the both of you."_

_Danny looked vacantly at Mac. "What's wrong then? Is it Flack?"_

_"Kind of," Mac smiled and stared past Danny's shoulder at Don who, at that exact moment, was making a stupid face at something Adam had said. Mac snickered quietly and then refocused on Danny. "We're getting married."_

_Danny's jaw fell open and he stared dumbly at Mac. "You're what?"_

_"I proposed to him. He said yes."_

_"Married? But Mac, isn't that a bit risky?" Danny asked anxiously, concern etched all over his face._

_"We know the risks, Danny. We've been dealing with them for eight years. Eight years I could have spent in happiness with him but denied myself of because of what other people might think, what other cops and the Chief might think."_

_"Then are you sure you're doing the right thing?" Danny asked worriedly._

_Mac once again looked past Danny at Don who was laughing hysterically at Hawkes who was doing a re-enactment of some sort of tale. Mac could just about work out that it involved some sort of chase and a dumpster._

_"One hundred percent," Mac smiled. He looked back at Danny and steadied a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I love him, Danny. I've loved him for eleven years and I never gave us a chance because of our lives, our jobs. I thought I was protecting Don, but in the end I hurt him more than anyone or anything else ever could have. I don't want to waste anymore time, Danny. I love him and I want the world to know. I feel like I could shout it from this rooftop right now."_

_Danny looked over at his wife as Mac was speaking. He remembered how he'd felt when he'd finally realised that he was in love with her. He'd felt like shouting it from a rooftop too. And if it hadn't been for Mac, well, they might never have got married. Mac had always been there for him. When Louie had died, when Lucy was born, when Shane Casey nearly killed his family, even when he'd made Sergeant and Cooper had lied about him. Mac was always there. Always supporting him just like the father he'd barely known. If this was what would complete Mac's life, make him whole again, make him feel like Danny had when he'd become a husband and father then there was no doubt in his mind that it was the right decision._

_"Mac, I'm really pleased for you," he said earnestly as he also placed a hand on the other man's shoulder._

_"Thanks, Danny. That means such a lot coming from you."_

_Danny smiled. "I know Flack makes you really happy. And both of you deserve some happiness, if anyone does it's you guys after both losing people."_

_"I'll never hurt him again, Danny."_

_Danny looked over his shoulder at Flack who was still laughing with Hawkes._

_"I know you won't, Mac. He loves you more than you'll ever know."_

_"I have an idea," smiled Mac._

_"He's my best friend, look after him."_

_Mac released his hold on Danny's shoulder. "I will. I promise."_

_"Oh and Mac?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Just a suggestion but I wouldn't go shouting it from the rooftop. I don't think Flack would appreciate that too much."_

_Mac shook his head in exasperation as they rejoined the group._

"Hey, Mac?"

Mac blinked as he felt long arms snake round his waste and hug him tight.

"Mmmm?" he murmured.

"Where were you? You went somewhere for a moment," Don asked as he hugged Mac tighter.

Mac realised that he'd been standing in the kitchen for some time completely absorbed in the memory of his conversation with Danny. His beer was almost empty and yet he had no recollection of drinking any of it.

"Sorry. Was just thinking about today," Mac smiled as he placed a kiss at the side of Don's mouth.

Don grinned knowingly. "And what a day..."

Mac glanced down at the side and saw Don had already finished eating the bowl of reheated pasta that had been in the microwave. He smirked as he thought about Don's amazing ability to make food disappear within seconds and never let it show.

"I'm going to take a shower. You coming?"

"Nah, I'll tidy up here and meet you in the bedroom," Don said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"You bet your ass you will," Mac growled as he kissed Don hard and then disappeared out of the kitchen.

The double innuendo didn't escape Don as he watched Mac's retreating form; head cocked to one side, mouth slightly open.

* * *

Don stared at himself in the bedroom mirror, trying desperately to angle himself so he could see the huge bruise that had appeared on his shoulder and back from earlier in the day. He'd felt so pathetic and weak being forced to the ground like that when all the other cops had managed to stay on their feet. If it hadn't been for Mac who knows what would have happened? And so once again, just like a few weeks before, he'd had to be rescued by the older man. If he wasn't careful this was fast becoming some sort of bad habit, something which he most definitely wasn't comfortable with. He was younger, fitter, in better health and should be able to protect himself easily without the need for help from someone that much older than himself. It was just like before with the kidnapping and Don somewhat regretted the conversation he'd had with Mac back in the hospital.

_"Mac...I thought I was going to die," Don admitted fearfully. He was sat on a hospital bed, legs dangling over the side, as the older man paced back and forth across the room._

_"I know, Don. I can't imagine what you went through," Mac replied, pausing to stare at him._

_Don nodded and looked down at his hands which he started to fidget with. "I've never felt so weak and helpless like I did..." he drifted off as he was unable to find the words to continue._

_"Don, you're not weak and helpless. Anyone would have been scared in your position."_

_"But I'm a cop," Don said, voice rising in anger. "I shouldn't ever feel like that. I'm trained how to deal with situations like that but I just...I just froze. I was scared."_

_Mac stared at him in sorrow at the trauma Don had been through in the past few days._

_"It's alright to be afraid, Don," he said sympathetically. "I've been scared many times in my life...it's part of what makes us human."_

_Don stared back at Mac unconvinced. "I should have tried more to escape," he sighed._

_Mac shook his head and put a hand on Don's, stopping the younger man from fiddling with them._

_"I was scared too, Don."_

_Don exhaled disbelievingly. "I doubt that very much. Why would you have been scared?"_

_"I thought I'd lost you," Mac replied._

_Don looked up into Mac's solemn eyes and knew he spoke the truth._

"That looks bad, Don."

Don blinked away his memory and turned to see Mac walking into his bedroom rubbing a towel through his hair, dressed in grey sweats and a black t-shirt.

"It's fine," Don replied irritably.

"It doesn't look fine. Here, let me take..."

"I said it was fine," Don said shortly, with more severity in his tone than he would have liked.

Mac stared at him for a moment in silence, towel dropped to his side. Then he turned and placed it into the laundry basket. Don knew at once that he'd annoyed the other man.

"Look, I'm sorry okay? I just..."

"I understand, Don. You said it was fine and I believe you," Mac responded as he climbed into the bed.

Don stared at him and then rubbed a hand over his face. "Mac, I don't want to argue. Not now. Not today," he said tiredly.

Mac paused in his fidgeting to get comfortable. "Come here," he said softly, offering out a hand towards Don.

Don stumbled forward and took it, being pulled down to sit at the end of the bed. Mac's hand began gently stroking up and down his arm.

"I only care about you, Don. Is that such a crime?" Mac asked sincerely.

Don closed his eyes briefly and sighed. "No, of course not. I just feel that lately you've had to do all the caring, like I can't look after myself. First the kidnapping, then what happened today..."

"And in case you've forgotten it wasn't so long ago I was shot and you had to take care of me. Don't you remember the panic you, yourself, felt when I was kidnapped a few years ago?"

Don stared at him, trying to recall the incident that Mac was referring to. It struck him that there was almost so many now, it was hard to tell one from the other. He searched his memories until his thoughts finally settled on one, not so very long ago, and he felt that familiar dread return to his heart.

_He'd felt sick when he'd discovered that Mac had been kidnapped. He almost had to rush to the toilet but fortunately managed to calm himself enough to look convincing in front of the others. Jo had looked at him suspiciously and Danny had eyed him worriedly but Don had tried his best to remain cool and collected. He'd never felt more relieved when Mac had turned up alive and well. He'd remained as professional as possible while he questioned Mac and Jo had processed him, though secretly he wanted to clasp Mac in his arms and never let him go for fear of losing him. It seemed an age before Jo finally left with the evidence._

_"Mac..." Don mumbled and moved closer to the other man. His hand brushed against Mac's knee._

_"I'm okay, Don," Mac stated seriously._

_"I was so worried..."Don found himself unable to voice his concerns._

_"I know. But I promise I'm fine. Mac moved his hand to his own knee where it touched Don's leg._

_"How?" Don asked, frowning._

_"Because I know how I'd have felt if it had been you..." Mac said honestly._

_Don half smiled. He wanted so much to hold Mac in his arms but the precinct wasn't the best place for that sort of thing. It was as if Mac could tell what he was thinking as the older man suddenly took hold of his notebook and pretended to read it. Don didn't loosen his grip on it and Mac's hand gently moved until it held his own. Don breathed deeply, feeling Mac's touch, his skin, his living flesh under his hand._

_"God, Mac. I was so fucking worried," he murmured._

_Mac squeezed his hand gently._

_"I need to go," Don finally said apologetically. "I need to work on what you gave me so we catch these bastards...and you should get some rest if you're insisting on not seeing a doctor."_

_"I'm fine, Don," Mac insisted. "But I should help Jo with the processing."_

_"Looks like it'll be a late night for both of us then," smirked Don._

_"I need to catch the person responsible for Tessa's murder, Don," Mac said tiredly._

_"I know," Don said sympathetically. He understood this case was almost personal for Mac. "But maybe we could just...I dunno...maybe I could see you after we close it?" he added hopefully._

_Mac once again squeezed his hand beneath the memobook. "I'd like that."_

_And true to his word, as Mac left the morgue the next day after ID-ing Tessa's body, Don was waiting for him and they spent the rest of the evening together for the first time in a long while._

Mac waited patiently for the younger man's eyes to refocus on him. When they did he carried on speaking. "It's what we do. We take care of each other. It's our job, our life. I'm always going to take care of you, Don, so you better get used to it."

Don smiled weakly and moved further up the bed so he could be nearer to Mac. Mac's hand transferred from his arm to his back and began cautiously stroking over his bruise. "It just made me feel weak today. That I couldn't look after myself. That I needed your help."

Mac moved forward and grabbed hold of Don's head between his hands. "Don't ever think that, Don. You're one of the strongest people I know. You've been through so much and come out a better man for it. A stronger man. A man I love and I won't apologise for caring, for looking after you. Don't forget you'll be my husband soon."

Before waiting for a reply Mac leant forward and captured Don's lips in a kiss, allowing it to be gentle, slow, wanting to claim the younger man's mouth, taste his scent, remind him that he would always be there for him.

"I'm sorry," Don whispered as their lips parted but they didn't move away from each other.

Mac didn't reply but kissed Don again. This time faster, passionately, fuelled by his desire for the man he loved so much. He heard Don whimper as he pushed his tongue into the younger man's mouth.

"I love you, Don," Mac murmured as he pulled away slightly and stared into the bright blue eyes of his lover.

"Mmmm," Don hummed happily as he smiled. "Kiss me again..."

* * *

A/N – Flashbacks in order are 9x17, 9x15 and 7x16.

In 9x15 Flack was kidnapped, not Christine. Lovato would take Flack's original part.

Danny/Lindsay relationship will start in the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N -** Thank you to reviewers. I wanted to get chapter two up quickly for the D/L fans as there wasn't any of them in chapter one. However updates may be slightly slower after this.**

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Two**

Mac laughed to himself as he heard Don singing away in the shower. The sound echoed all the way down the hallway and into the kitchen where Mac was busy making breakfast. What on Earth the neighbours thought Mac didn't know. He broke six eggs into the frying pan and began to fry them up, pushing the bacon to one side. As they cooked Mac tried to work out exactly what the song was coming down the hall but really he had no idea. It sounded rather warped and he guessed that was due to the water and echoing. All of a sudden it stopped and he heard the shower switch off. Mac had gotten up early to go for a jog, leaving a sleeping Don in his bed and then had showered once he returned. That usually meant that half way through his showering a half asleep Don would shuffle into the bathroom, hair at odd angles if it was long enough, and sit on the toilet seat watching him until he'd finished. Then Mac would get out, place a quick kiss on Don's lips and leave the bathroom to the younger man.

"What smells so good?"

Mac turned and smiled at Don who had perched himself on a stool at the counter. He wore a dark pair of jeans and an off-white shirt. Mac missed the days when he used to dress in a suit but Don was long past that now. He'd been a different man back then, more naive to the world's cruelty in some ways, despite his profession.

"Bacon and eggs," Mac replied as he started placing the food on plates.

"And there was me thinking it was you," smiled Don cheekily.

"Now who's being soppy?" Mac smiled as he placed the two plates down on the counter and then started to pour out two cups of coffee.

"Soppy? When did I call you soppy?" Don frowned, trying to remember.

"Yesterday. When I called you perfect."

"Oh yeah," Don laughed. "Well that was kinda soppy, Mac."

Mac placed the two cups of coffee down beside the plates. "Just like you," Mac whispered and kissed the younger man.

"Hmph," Don moaned and then started to eat his breakfast.

"How's the shoulder?" Mac asked as they ate.

"Mmm, better. Doesn't ache as much today. Reckon it'll be healed within a week," Don replied, shovelling food into his mouth.

Mac smiled to himself as he watched the food in front of Don practically evaporate as the younger man ate it so fast.

"That's good. And if you want one of my special massages..." Mac suggested quietly.

"Always," Don winked at Mac.

Mac drank deeply from his coffee and smiled again. He couldn't help himself, he simply couldn't stop smiling. For once he actually felt at peace within himself. Yes, he still had unsolved cases, yes people were always going to murder each other, yes there was a very large chance that Don would get injured out in the field again at some point and yes they were both probably going to get a lot of grief for their upcoming nuptials but right at that moment Mac simply didn't care. Life was good. He had Don and he was happy.

"Oh, Danny and Lindsay invited us round for dinner a week on Wednesday. Me and Mess both have the day off so we're gonna go for some hoops and then make some food for you guys and Lucy."

"That sounds good. Count me in...as long as the criminals of New York don't get in the way."

"Hey, if they do, they do. We know how it is," Don shrugged. "More for us that way anyway," he added cheekily as an afterthought.

"I don't think you need anymore," Mac said, nodding his head toward Don's empty plate.

"I'm a growing boy," Don informed Mac.

"Outwards," Mac teased as he ate more of his own breakfast.

Don stared at him with an expression of disbelief. "Did you just call me fat, Mac Taylor?" he asked, a fake upset tone to his voice.

Mac looked up at him and pretended to size up Don's body with his eyes, just to wind the younger man up. "Of course not," he said after a moment, shaking his head.

"Cos I'll have you know my Grams thinks I'm skinny," Don said proudly.

Mac laughed loudly at Don's look of pride. "Bet you didn't really like being called that either," he said, one eyebrow raised knowingly.

Don hummed and shrugged his shoulders. "In shape, Mac. In shape."

Mac shook his head again, still smiling. "You never answered my question anyway."

"Hmmm? What question?" Don asked as he poured himself a second cup of coffee. He tilted the pot toward Mac to offer some to the other man but Mac shook his head.

"I wanted to know what Danny said to you yesterday," Mac said expectantly.

"About what?" Don asked.

"When you were talking on the roof last night," Mac prompted.

"Oh right," Don said. He thought back to the conversation he'd had the previous night with his best friend.

_"So, you're finally jumping on the bandwagon, eh?" Danny joked as he joined Flack in sitting on the stone wall that ran the edge of the roof._

_"Yep," Flack smiled as he fiddled with the beer bottle in his hands._

_"I gotta tell you, Flack, I was kinda surprised," Danny shrugged._

_"Surprised?"_

_"Well yeah."_

_"Cos of work?" Flack asked, furrowing his brow._

_"Not really...well, I mean...yeah, I guess cos of work too," Danny mumbled._

_"Too?" asked Flack._

_Danny sighed and placed the bottle of water he was holding on the wall next to him. "You promise you won't be mad?"_

_"When have I ever been mad at you, Mess?" Flack asked, shaking his head. Both men paused for a second thinking and then laughed. "Okay, yeah I guess I've been mad at you lots of times. But I promise I won't be this time. You're my best friend and you're opinion means a lot to me."_

_Danny nodded gently as he stared down at the ground before him. "It's just...I never would've thought you guys would have worked out. I mean, you've been on-off for so long now...I just figured it was only a matter of time before it fell apart again," he said nervously, his eyes never leaving the ground._

_Flack swallowed hard as he soaked up what Danny had said to him. Yes, it was true that his relationship with Mac had never been plain sailing but then, he really did love Mac and it felt right this time. It felt like this was how things were meant to be._

_"I love him, Mess," he said softly._

_"I know you do, Flack. I know you always have. Even when you were with Jess, as much as you loved her you still always loved him a little bit. Quite honestly I'm not sure how the others didn't see it," Danny shrugged._

_"Didn't realise I was that obvious," Flack muttered._

_Danny smiled. "For a cop, you're not that subtle when it comes to matters of the heart," Danny joked, raising one eyebrow as he turned to Flack. "Or maybe I just know you better than most."_

_"You know me better than anyone, Danno," Flack said honestly._

_Danny sighed and nodded his head again. "Then you sure this is the right thing? That he'll make you happy? That he won't hurt you again?"_

_Flack smiled at the concern etched on his friend's face."Yes," he replied simply._

_Danny smiled at his friend. "I just want you to be happy like I am, Flack. You've been through so much shit, not just with Mac but with everything...the explosion, Jess, Cade."_

_"I know, Danno. I know you're just trying to look out for me," Flack nodded. "And I appreciate that."_

_"Well it's not often I get the chance. Usually it's you who's got my back," Danny smiled._

_Flack let out a quiet laugh. "Can't help it if you seem to attract trouble, Mess."_

_"Hey," Danny moaned as he elbowed Flack gently in the arm._

_Flack laughed loudly this time and swigged his beer. After a while he spoke again. "You got Linds to look after you now anyway. But I'll always have your back, Danno."_

_"I know you will. And I'll always have yours. You're like a brother to me, man. Ever since Louie..."_

_Danny drifted off and his eyes glazed over for a moment as he thought about his brother._

_"Hey."_

_Danny looked up at his best friend._

_"Your brother was a good man, Danno. He saved your life."_

_"I know he was, Flack. And I'll never forget that. But you're like a second brother to me, man. And I love you just as much as I loved him."_

_"Gee, you're gonna make me blush," Flack laughed._

_"I mean it," Danny said seriously._

_Flack's laughter died immediately. "I mean it too, Danno. If I could have chosen my brother it would have been you."_

_Danny watched his wife for a few moments thinking about Louie, about Flack, and how they were both so different and yet he loved them both so much. "You never speak much about your brother," he said after a while. He noticed Flack nodding out of the corner of his eye._

_"We're not close," Flack murmured._

_Danny nodded again and decided not to pry any further. An easy silence elapsed between them while they both watched the rest of their team members and Flack finished his beer._

_"Are you okay with this?" Flack asked suddenly, turning to look at Danny._

_"With what? You and Mac?" Danny queried._

_"Yeah. I know it must be weird for you. I mean, Mac is like a dad to you...and I'm your best friend and...I guess it must be a little weird."_

_It was Danny's turn to laugh. "It was a little weird five years ago when you first told me you'd been having a secret affair with him. Now...now I just want both of you to be happy and if you guys getting married will do that then count me on board."_

_Flack grinned. "Thanks, Danno."_

_"And if you get any trouble from anyone...well, let's just say I still know a few people from the back in the day, friends of Louie's..."_

_Flack's face dropped. "Seriously, Mess, don't joke about that stuff."_

_Danny grinned. "Man, I love to wind you up. But I mean it, any trouble and you tell me."_

_"I can handle myself, Mess. And you, my friend, will be far too busy with another baby on the way."_

_"I'm a little scared if I'm honest," Danny murmured as he watched Lindsay chatting to Lovato._

_"Course you are. But you'll be fine. I mean, second one's a doddle right?"_

_"Doddle? I'll give you a doddle!" Danny smirked, cuffing Flack round the back of the head._

_Flack jabbed Danny in the ribs with his elbow in response and laughed when the smaller man fell off the wall on to the ground in front of them. His laugh disappeared immediately when he looked up to see Lovato staring straight over Lindsay's shoulder at Mac, a look of great distaste on her face._

"He was pleased for us," Don murmured as he refocused his eyes on Mac who had sat patiently waiting for him to answer. "Worried about work and all that but pleased. He wants us to be happy."

Mac nodded and began to tidy the plates away.

"I was thinking I should have my sister round for dinner. Tell her the good news," Don told Mac's back.

"Would you like me to be there?" asked Mac as he deposited the plates in the sink and turned on the tap.

"Only if you want..."

Mac turned his head to look at his lover rather severely. "You don't even need to ask, Don. Your family is my family now remember? I'll even come to tell your Grams if you want."

"Nah, that's okay," Don smiled. "I think the fact that I'm getting married to a man will be enough of a shock to her, without her meeting you as well."

"Am I that bad?" asked Mac as he turned the tap off and stuck his hands into the soapy liquid.

"Yeah...but I love ya anyway," Don grinned as he stood up and headed for the doorway. "Right, I gotta get going. I'm on shift in thirty and traffic's a bitch at this time."

"Hey, Don," Mac called but didn't turn from the sink.

"Mmm?" Don hummed as he paused.

"Just be careful today, okay?" Mac said, unable to actually come out with what he truly wanted to say. He felt two long arms snake round his waist and then a kiss was pressed to the back of his neck.

"I always am, Mac," Don murmured. He held Mac for a while in silence, wishing he didn't have to let go.

"Are you coming round tonight?" Mac asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Will you be here?" Don asked, knowing how frequently Mac seemed to simply live at his office.

"I will be at some point," Mac reasoned.

"Then yes. Guess we have a lot we need to start planning."

Mac turned in Don's arms and gently kissed his lips, his hands coming up to hold the younger man's face.

"I need to tell Sinclair today," Mac said quietly as he drew back.

Don swallowed nervously and nodded. "Guess I'll be telling the Captain then."

"You ready?" Mac asked worriedly.

Don smiled reassuringly. "Ready to marry you."

He kissed Mac again and then disappeared from the kitchen to finish getting ready for work. Mac watched him leave, not convinced by Don's feeble attempt at a smile for one moment.

* * *

"Hey, Baby, what's this?" Danny asked as he kissed the top of his daughter's head and then sidled into a seat next to her.

"It's for school," she replied, not even looking at him and continuing with her colouring.

"What, you gotta draw something?" Danny asked as he frowned, trying to make out the picture.

"Umm hmm," she hummed.

"And you chose to do a..." Danny said, watching her expectantly for an answer.

She ignored his question and continued in her work.

"Yep, just like your mom," Danny said, shaking his head as he stood and went into the bedroom.

"Just like me how?" Lindsay asked, looking up as he entered.

"Oh, you heard that?" Danny asked.

"Yes. I did. And you didn't answer my question," she said, folding her arms.

"Errr...just good at ignoring me," Danny muttered, scratching the top of his head.

Lindsay's stern face broke and she smiled at him, walking over to hug him.

"I don't always ignore you," she whispered seductively in his ear.

"Mmmm...how long til work?" he murmured.

"You have three hours, but you have to take your daughter to kindergarten in ten minutes.

"Ten minutes, eh?" Danny said cheekily, grinning from ear to ear at his wife.

"Yes. And you better wipe that smirk off your face cos it's not happening."

"What?" Danny moaned.

"Perhaps tonight," she said, turning back to the wardrobe. "If you're a good boy."

"I'm always good," Danny retorted as he jumped onto the bed and patted the space next to him.

"Danny, I just made that," Lindsay said in dismay.

Danny sat up and reached out with one hand, pulling his wife over to him.

"Hey, I love you," he murmured before standing and kissing her.

"Mmm, what was that for?" she asked.

"Just don't want you to ever forget it," he replied, smiling happily. "That you...Lucy...us...our baby," he said, placing a hand on her belly. "You mean the world to me."

Lindsay leant up and kissed him again. "I love you too," she whispered.

Danny hugged her tight against him and smiled to himself, feeling something warm and fuzzy spread throughout his body. His life really was perfect and he wouldn't change it for the world.

"Right, do we need anything for school today?" he asked, releasing his wife.

"Lucy's lunch is in the fridge and her school bag is all ready by the door. She just needs the picture she's drawing of us."

"Oh, is that what that is," Danny said, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Yes. She had to draw her family. What did you think it was?"

Lindsay didn't hear the answer Danny mumbled but it sounded suspiciously like 'farmyard' and he blushed slightly pink.

"Guess she takes after you in the art department then," Lindsay giggled as she chucked Danny a jacket from the wardrobe. "Now you better get going and I'll see you at work. I start in an hour."

"Is Ma picking Lucy up?" Danny asked.

"Yep and bringing her back here for the evening."

"Great. I'll see you later then," Danny nodded as he exited the bedroom.

Lindsay smiled and turned away, glancing at herself in the mirror. She gently placed her hand on her belly and stroked across it. At four months there was already a rather noticeable bump there. A bump that was her baby boy.

* * *

"Mac Taylor?" choked Flack's Captain, his eyes as big as saucers.

"Yes, Sir," Flack nodded as he fidgeted nervously with his hands.

"Mac Taylor as in Detective Mac Taylor, head of the New York City Crime Lab?"

"The one and only," Flack confirmed.

The Captain, Gordon Hatcher, collapsed into his chair and looked stunned. After a moment he stared back at Flack and studied him carefully.

"I see. And when did this happen?" asked Hatcher, his eyes suddenly narrowing suspiciously.

"About eight years ago, on and off. Two years ago if we're talking steady," Flack answered truthfully.

"Eight years?" Once again Hatcher's eyes grew large.

Flack fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. This had to be the most awkward conversation he'd ever had in his entire life and he suddenly wished he could be anywhere else but sat in front of his Captain at that moment.

"Well. I see. I do see. I..." Hatcher broke off, clearly at a loss for what to say.

Flack didn't bother filling in the silence that ensued. He didn't really believe it was anyone else's business who he dated at all. Man or woman, cop or civilian, it was his choice, his life and nobody else's.

"Who else knows?" asked Hatcher eventually.

"A few friends and Mac's telling the Chief today," Flack replied.

"And you wanted to tell me before I heard it filtering down through the ranks?"

"I realise it might cause some trouble when the others hear about it and figured I'd give you a heads up."

"You're bloody right it'll cause trouble," Hatcher said in a rather loud voice. He sounded pissed. "Don't expect me to protect you from this."

"I can handle my own battles," Flack retorted swiftly.

"Can you? Because once your fellow detectives and officers hear about this there's no way I can protect you from them. They'll be comments and God knows what else."

"I realise that, Sir. We both do and we discussed it at great length but quite frankly this is what we want. It's our business not anyone..."

"It's damn well my business if it causes unrest between my detectives. I need you all to be able to rely on one another. What do you think this is going to do when it comes out?"

"They'll soon get over it, Sir, and then someone else will be the talking point of the bullpen."

"Not for a very long time, Flack. You know how it is for homosexual cops...you've heard the chat, no doubt been part of it on occasion."

"Sir, I..."

"And if that's not bad enough," Hatcher continued as though he hadn't heard Flack speak. "You're in a relationship with the head of the Crime Lab...and getting married." He shook his head in disbelief. "You know what they said about you when you became a detective, Flack?"

Flack looked down at his hands before answering. "Yes. That it must have been my dad. I was too young to have become one based on my own merit."

"Exactly. You think people aren't gonna say exactly the same thing now? Your Dad's gone so they'll think you're replacing him with Taylor. That you're trying to climb ranks by having a relationship with him!"

"I'm not," Flack said quickly and defiantly. "And that's why we're getting married. We're serious about each other. It's not some fling to boost my status within the force. Plus I'm not sure I even want to move on. I like being a homicide detective."

"People won't care about that, Flack. All they'll see is you shacking up with a senior detective who also happens to be a man."

Flack sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I know that," he replied tiredly.

"And you're ready to deal with that?"

"If that's what I have to do to marry him then yes."

Hatcher stared at him for a second. "And what about IA? They're going to have a field day about Taylor dating a subordinate."

Flack sighed loudly; he didn't understand why everything had to be so difficult. Why there were so many rules in the force. "That's why Mac's telling Chief Sinclair today. And it's not like Mac's my direct boss, he works in the Crime Lab and I work at one of the many precincts in New York."

"I'll be waiting to hear from the Chief then," Hatcher said sourly.

"I am sorry if this causes trouble, Sir," Flack said honestly.

Hatcher nodded and then shook his head, confusing Flack by the action.

"Get out of here," he muttered.

Flack stood and made his way to the door.

"Flack!"

Flack turned back to look at Hatcher.

"First sign of trouble and I want it reported to me immediately. Don't you go crying to Taylor."

"Yes, Sir," Flack nodded and then exited the office. He knew the rules and would never go crying to Mac, making out he couldn't handle himself yet again.

"How'd it go?"

Flack looked up to see Lovato leaning against the wall opposite the Captain's door.

"How'd you think?" Flack replied sarcastically. He made his way back to his desk and collapsed into his chair, only vaguely aware that the pretty female detective had followed him over.

"So what's he gonna do?" she asked.

"Not much he can do as long as Mac convinces Sinclair. Just told me to be prepared. Like I wasn't already."

"You made your bed...guess you gotta lie..."

"Alright, Lovato. I get it, Jeez..."

"I'm just trying to help, Flack. You're gonna need at least one friend in here when the shit hits the fan."

"Friend?" Flack said angrily. "Is that what you're calling yourself? Cos from where I'm standing you don't seem all that friendly to me. You've barely spoken to me since Hawkes told you about my relationship with Mac and don't think I didn't see the look you were giving him last night."

"Keep your voice down, Flack," Lovato replied, glancing around them. "Okay, yes. I admit it freaked me out when I found out."

"Why?" Flack spat.

"Because you're my friend and you were keeping this big secret from me," she replied.

"I kept it from everyone. Danny's the only one I told. He then told Lindsay and Jo guessed but no-one else had any idea. They only worked it out after Mac got shot last year."

Lovato shook her head, her hair falling off her shoulder. "Fine then. I liked you, Flack, a lot. You know I did, we even almost kissed and then I find out you're gay? I just wish you'd told me, been straight with me from the start. It made me feel like an idiot because I'd flirted with you."

Flack placed his face in his hands and rubbed it.

"I don't care if you flirted with me and I apologised for what happened. Now please explain to me why you were looking at Mac like that last night?"

"Because I was trying to see you two together, as a couple and quite honestly I couldn't picture it. But hey, who cares right cos it's none of my business..."

Flack looked up at her and glared angrily. "It is none of your business. I've been with him way before I ever met you and you have no idea about our relationship. I don't care if you think it's weird or sick or disgusting because it has nothing to do with you. So just get out of my face."

"Flack, I..."

"I said fuck off!" Flack growled.

"Fine," she said angrily. "But don't come running to me when everyone else in here finds out."

She stormed away, out of the bullpen and Flack collapsed over his desk. This was almost as difficult as dealing with the protestors yesterday.

* * *

"And why have you told me this, Mac? Your personal relationships are hardly any of my business," Chief of Detectives, Brigham Sinclair said cordially over his desk.

"Because I know this will have repercussions down the line, especially for Don," Mac replied.

"We both know that dating a subordinate and dating a man are two of the biggest No's in the rulebook, Mac," Sinclair replied.

"And I thought we were trying to get rid of that stereotype. Trying to make the NYPD more diverse," Mac stated irritably.

"There's diverse and then there's plain stupid."

"Does it matter at all that we're in love, that this isn't just some fling. That we've been seeing each other for a very long time?"

Sinclair leant back in his seat. "You know how the press will take this when it gets leaked out."

"They should be pleased that a senior official in the police department isn't scared of coming out," Mac said angrily.

"And the fact that he's a cop too? One from a very renowned family, third generation cop."

Mac sighed heavily. "I thought this might be okay. That evidence of more diversity and acceptance within the NYPD would be good for its image. I see now that was stupid of me. Would you like me to resign?"

Sinclair surveyed the man before him for some time. "No. I do not want you to resign. You're good at your job, Mac, and quite frankly I don't want to have to try and find a replacement for you yet again. I had enough trouble when you quit on me before."

"Thank you," Mac said in relief.

"As you're not the direct senior officer above him I can't actually see it being a problem in terms of the department. Just make sure you don't work cases together anymore. And I'll have a word with IA, they should agree with me."

Mac sighed again, out of relief more than anything. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't be too pleased with yourself just yet," Sinclair replied and Mac looked up at him sharply. "You need to think about Detective Flack. You may be protected by your position and seniority but he isn't. When this comes out he'll be in for some trouble make no mistake."

"He can look after himself," Mac retorted.

"I don't doubt that. But in a room full of homophobic cops, assuming he's sleeping with you for promotion? Dealing with them day in, day out, every shift he works..."

Mac pursed his lips as he realised Sinclair was right. Perhaps he should call it off? He needed to protect Don...Mac shook his head vehemently. No. Don wanted this. He wanted this as much as Mac did himself. He'd been doing this for so long, loving Don, committing to Don, doubting Don due to work, leaving Don for his own protection, breaking Don's heart. No, he wouldn't do that again. This time it was forever.

"He's well aware of the likely result of this but he doesn't care...and neither do I. This is happening, Sinclair."

Sinclair nodded. "Well then I guess congratulations are in order. It will be a small affair, won't it?"

Mac pursed his lips together in annoyance. He hated Sinclair telling him what to do. "Of course."

"Excellent. Well, you better be getting on then, Mac."

Mac nodded and got up to leave. As much as he hated to say it, Sinclair had just done him a massive favour and he had to be grateful to the man.

* * *

A/N - Flashback from 9x17


	3. Chapter 3

**Israel - Chapter Three**

That night there was a thunderstorm; deep clouds rolled in from the East and swept over the city, covering it in a blanket of mist. The temperature dropped, despite spring having already arrived and the skies opened, rain falling thickly over the streets. Danny sloshed through the puddles as he made his way blindly up the street to his building. The cab had dropped him off at the corner, unable to get up the street due to the large amount of water settling over it. He'd pulled the hood of his hoodie over his dripping hair but the rain blew into his eyes and he gasped in icy breaths, trying not to choke. There hadn't been a storm this bad in a long time. Lightning flashed overhead and Danny shivered again. The water on the ground had soaked up his trousers and into his skin, not to mention the rain flying at him, landing on him like tiny, icy pinpricks of pain. He had to turn back to find the steps up to his home, walking right past them as the mist swirled around and made it impossible to see. He clambered up, slipping twice before he made it to the top and unlocked the door with a trembling hand. His red fingers curled in of themselves and froze in that position, aching painfully against the heat of the building as he entered. The door slammed closed behind him of its own accord and he stayed there, shivering for a moment, every joint tensed with pain as he lost himself in numb thought.

His heart ached. It ached with pain and pity and hatred of what the human race could do to itself. It ached more than his frozen body did. That young girl's face, her tears, her heartfelt sobs of pure anguish would never leave him for the rest of his life. If Hawkes hadn't been standing next to him as he'd watched through the glass he would have broken down right there. But he hadn't. He'd kept it together until this very moment. That beautiful little girl. Bright blue eyes, golden locks that hung down her back, a shy smile as Flack had offered her some hot chocolate earlier in the day. But that had been destroyed, as so much had been today. Four people's lives ruined by the actions of one man. And nothing would ever be the same again for that little girl. Only five years old. Danny's face burnt as tears rolled down it, thawing trails on his skin too quickly and burning through the ice. She hadn't understood. Perhaps she'd been too young...or simply in denial but she hadn't understood when the social worker had explained her parents were never coming back. Mother lying in the morgue, only twenty four years of age, barely grown up herself. Similar to her daughter in every way; blue eyes, blonde hair but no shy smile. Of course, there had been no smile at all as half her face was smashed in by a baseball bat. Body black and blue with bruises, most of them caked with dry blood, all the bones in her fingers broken, jaw hanging loose and ribs snapped at such an angle they'd punctured a lung. A slow and painful death. A quick and senseless beating.

Danny's sobs filled the lobby as he slid to the floor and broke. It had been Sid who'd first told him. Sid who'd discovered the truth. So many things they couldn't tell without the autopsy, such a necessary part of the process, such an unwelcome mass of information. The unborn child safe within her body, protected from the world outside, secure in its own universe and free to grow and live. The unborn child now dead within her body, vulnerable to the man outside, killed too soon before it had the chance to live and grow. Danny cried until his eyes were sore and his heart ached for the injustice of the world. How could a man do that? How could a human being do that? Love was a good thing, pure and yet it caused too much evil. That man had taken up the bat without a second thought, mind fuelled by rage, intentions of the worst. He'd cried as he'd confessed, wept his tears over the table, regret strong in his mind as he recalled his actions. Danny had no sympathy for a man like that, and neither had Flack sat beside him or Hawkes watching through the glass. Now that little girl, Arabella...that was her name, now she was parentless, left alone with a dead mother, dead unborn sister and incarcerated father who'd be lucky if he ever saw the light of day again. She'd disappear into the system and come out a very different person one day in the future.

Danny wiped his tears away and tried to ignore the nausea that permeated his body. He had such a beautiful wife, so perfect and far too good for him. She always had been and always would be. But he'd spend the rest of his life trying to be good enough for her. He had his beautiful little princess, four and a half years old and already so grown up. And then there was his unborn child, his son who would be perfect, just like the rest of his family. Danny couldn't imagine ever being mad enough to commit the abhorrent crime that man had, he couldn't ever imagine losing them, living his life without them by his side. He jumped as the loud rumble of thunder rolled through the air. He choked as he imagined either himself or Lindsay alone, or Lucy, having to grow up without her parents with her. They both did such a dangerous job, so often faced with unstable suspects and weapons. It wouldn't take much for one or both of them to end up...Danny couldn't think of it. There had been the time at the bar shooting, they could have easily both been killed. Who would have explained to Lucy that neither of them were coming back? He guessed his friends would have taken care of her and she was probably too young at the time to have understood anyway. But now, she was getting older and with the new one on the way...

"Danny?"

Danny coughed, gasped and looked up to see his wife standing in front of him.

"Danny, what are you doing here? I heard you come in ten minutes ago." she asked worriedly, going to his side and touching his face gently with a hand. "God, you're freezing. What's happened?"

"I love you so much," Danny whispered and leant his head into her neck. She was warm.

"Danny...I? What's... I love you too, you know I do...but you're freezing, come inside and get out of these wet clothes."

"I'd never hurt you, you know that? I'd never do anything to hurt you or Luce or the baby."

"Danny, of course I know that," Lindsay said in concern, a tear dripped down her cheek as he clung to her and her heart clenched with worry.

"I just...I can't stand the thought of you being alone. Of Luce being alone...or the baby."

Lindsay blinked away her tears. She had to remain strong for her husband in his moment of need. "Danny, we're not alone, we have you...we have each other."

"But what if something happens, Linds? Another bar shooting or another Shane Casey or just some lunatic with a gun? I...I can't stand it...and with the baby..."

Lindsay pulled him against her as he lost himself with emotion and sobbed the rest of his sentence out. She held him close, one hand around his back while the other held the back of his head. She rarely ever saw Danny like this, he was always so happy, so supportive of her – usually the needy, emotional one – Danny rarely ever let anything bad get to him. Something must have happened today, and she had a funny feeling whatever it was that was hurting him, was much bigger than his case.

"You're worried about work, aren't you?" she murmured softly, not letting him go. She could feel the cold of his clothes seeping into her own but right at that moment she didn't care. He was shaking against her and she knew he'd been keeping this inside far too long.

"We can't stay like this, Linds...not with the new baby coming..." he cried.

"You don't have to worry about this," she murmured, kissing the top of his head.

"Linds...of course I do. I'm the man, it's my job to look after my family..."

"Danny..." she said quietly, taking a deep breath for courage. "I'm going to give up work."

Danny pulled away from her and stared up into her eyes. "What?"

"I'm going to give up work. I'll find something else, something safer with better hours."

"But...I don't understand...we haven't even discussed this..."

"We're discussing it now," she smiled sadly. "I've been thinking about this ever since I found out about this baby. Your Ma is getting old, Danny, she can't look after two small kids. They need to have at least one parent who'll be able to take them to school and pick them up, go to matches and recitals. At the moment we barely do anything with Lucy and I feel bad about that all the time."

"So do I," agreed Danny, calming slightly at her words.

"Children need stability. They need a family unit and right now it doesn't feel very much like we have one. This way I get more time to spend with Lucy and the baby and also with you when we're not at work."

"I like you being at work with me," Danny mumbled. "You're so much braver than me, Linds."

"No, I'm just more sensible. For instance I wouldn't sit in the lobby, freezing cold and in sopping wet clothes."

Danny let out a breath in amusement and then placed a hand over hers. "God, I love you."

"I love you too," Lindsay replied. "I love our family. Now come on, let's get you inside and out of these clothes."

"I'm sorry, Linds."

"It's okay. Sometimes you just need to let it all out. Come on..."

She took his hand and they stood up together. Then she led him into their apartment and closed the door against the outside world. Just the four of them, safe in their own little world and nothing could break that. Nothing ever would break that.

* * *

Mac finally got home at two in the morning. The rain had stopped a little over an hour ago and the sky was slowly clearing. He hadn't really planned to come back at all but Don had said he'd be there and Mac wanted to see the young detective whom he'd missed all day. He slipped off his shoes and jacket as he got in, tidying them away before proceeding into his lounge. The lights were off but the room was lit by the TV which was now showing a teleshopping show and the grinning presenter was demonstrating how to use some useless kitchen machine. He smiled as his eyes went straight to the tall detective asleep on the couch. Don had managed to cram his entire body between the two armrests despite the couch being at least four inches shorter than he was and his head was bent in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable angle. Mac was getting neck ache just looking at him. He went over and perched on the armrest nearest to his head. He felt guilty for staying so late at the office, he knew Don had finished around 9pm and had obviously waited up for him, despite being on an early shift tomorrow.

"Don?" Mac murmured.

The detective stirred but didn't wake.

"Don?" Mac said again louder.

Don let out a soft noise and one of his arms moved to cover his face but he still didn't wake, Mac quietly laughed and shook his head. Don was beautiful when he slept, so at peace with the world and Mac had always been jealous of that. Despite his recent happiness, Mac hadn't slept well since Claire died all those years ago. And anyone who could sleep through a thunderstorm as loud as the one that had raged that evening was high on Mac's jealously list. He watched as Don stirred again and debated about whether or not he should wake him. Despite how uncomfortable he looked the detective was obviously deep in the realms of sleep and Mac hadn't the heart to rouse him from his dreams. And yet, the only reason he had even returned home was to see Don, to speak with him, to bask in the younger man's company. Mac knew he was lucky to have him, knew that on many an occasion he'd been close to losing the one thing he treasured more than anything else. He closed his eyes as a memory assaulted him, drawn forth from the deepest recesses of his mind.

_Mac smiled at the young man sat next to him. He was having a good time, grinning up at the screen and shouting loudly at his team to 'move there asses'._

_Mac found it rather funny and waited until the match had finished before trying to talk about anything serious with Don. Fortunately his team had won which had put him in a very good mood. It was exactly what he needed after the day he'd had._

_"Another?" Don asked merrily as he signalled at the barman._

_"Why not?" smiled Mac and drained the rest of his glass._

_It was nice to be out with Don again. They'd not done this in a very long time. Not because there was any sort of awkwardness between them. But Mac supposed he'd tried to keep at least some distance from the younger man, wanting to give him enough room to get over him. That had been hard. Mac still cared deeply for the younger detective. He'd not dated anyone since Don and Peyton and he wanted to keep it that way. Not that he expected to ever have a relationship with Don again. On a personal level there probably wasn't much trust left between them, he'd seen to that. But at least they could hang out together and not feel any awkwardness. That was all Mac could ask for really._

_"Here ya go," Don grinned and slid a pint along the bar to Mac._

_"Cheers," Mac said, nodding and raising his glass._

_"Cheers," Don replied. He drank almost half his pint in one go and Mac could see the detective slowly getting tipsy._

_"Thanks for this, Mac. It's just what I needed."_

_"No problem."_

_"And thanks for today. For never doubting me. It was nice to know there was at least one person who had my back."_

_"I'll always have your back," Mac murmured and he and Don locked eyes for a moment before turning back to their drinks._

_"Felt like everyone was out to get me," Don muttered._

_"Not everyone," Mac stated solidly and he briefly touched Don on the arm._

_Don stared at the spot on his arm that had come in to contact with Mac's hand._

_"I'm seeing Angell, Mac."_

_Mac nodded and looked down at his drink. He knew this would happen one day. That Don would move on and start dating seriously again. Jessica Angell was a kind and generous person, a clever detective and very beautiful too. She was perfect for Don and Mac was happy for him, he genuinely was, despite wishing he'd perhaps appreciated what he'd had while it had still been his._

_"Does she make you happy?" Mac asked after a moment._

_Don smiled and Mac recognised it as the one that had once been reserved only for his eyes._

_"Yeah. Yeah she does," he said happily. "I think I might be falling in love."_

_Mac swallowed and felt something of a pain in his chest which he ignored. He had no right to feel like that._

_"I'm pleased for you, Don," Mac finally said._

_Don looked at him and Mac nodded._

"Mac," Don said in surprise, face breaking out into that wonky grin.

Mac opened his eyes and saw that the young detective had woken from his slumber, blinking up at him wearily.

"You seem surprised to see me in my own home," Mac said smirking, amused at the younger man.

Don stretched again and pushed himself up into a sitting position. "I didn't expect you back. Thought you'd sleep over at the office."

"I said I'd be back," Mac pointed out.

"Yeah, but isn't it kinda late? I waited up but guess I must have fallen asleep," Don said regretfully.

"It's 2am, Don. You should have gone to be hours ago," Mac said severely.

"2am? Why the hell are you so late?" Don scolded as he stood up and rubbed his hands over his face.

"I had work to finish," Mac replied, bemused that Don was telling him off.

"Well you should have left it until tomorrow...or today, as it were," Don stated as he turned off the TV, chucking the remote onto the couch and then heading out of the room.

Mac sighed and picked up the remote placing it back on the coffee table in a parallel line to the edge. Then he followed Don into the kitchen where he was getting a drink of water.

"Is this how it's going to be then?" Mac asked as he leant against the doorframe, arms crossing against his chest.

"Is this how what's going to be?" asked Don, filling his glass up for a second drink.

"You...ordering me about. I'm the boss at work but you're the boss at home is it?"

Don laughed loudly and put the glass on the side. "I think you'll always be the big bad boss, Mac. I won't try and crash your party."

Mac rolled his eyes and laughed. "You need to get to bed."

"See," Don grinned and pushed past Mac out of the kitchen toward the bedroom.

"That's not bossy, it's just good sense," Mac mumbled to himself as he quickly washed the glass and placed it on the drainer before turning out the lights and following Don into the bedroom.

"What took you?" Don asked, pulling his shirt off over his head without undoing it.

"Just tidying up after my mess."

"Your mess?" exclaimed Don feigning hurt. "Is that what I am to you?"

"Well you are messy," reasoned Mac, staring at the pile of clothes on the floor that Don had just disregarded as he got into bed.

"Well you better start getting used to it," grinned Don, plumping up the pillows before collapsing back against them.

"Does that mean you want to move in here?" Mac asked as he removed his own clothes.

Don watched Mac for a moment mulling it over before replying. "I thought it was easiest. Most of my stuff is here anyway and you don't like my place."

"I never said that," Mac said, one eyebrow raised. "In fact as I recall, it was you who said you didn't like your place."

"It's cold there," Don moaned defensively.

"Because you're never there," chuckled Mac.

Don hummed and shrugged his shoulders. "Don't you want me here then?"

"Of course I do," Mac replied, removing his pants. "I just thought we might choose a place together."

Don stared back at him. "Get somewhere together?" he murmured, somewhat shocked.

Mac laughed. "We are getting married, in case you'd forgotten."

"No...I mean, of course not," Don made a stupid face at Mac. "It's just I didn't even think of that. I don't even know if I've got the money."

Mac climbed into bed next to Don. "Well, move in here then. And when we have enough we can start looking. I think it would be nice to have somewhere that is ours together."

Don nodded in agreement and grinned at Mac, leaning against his shoulder. Mac placed an arm around him.

"So are you going to tell me how it went today with Hatcher?"

"Urgh" Don moaned. "As well as can be expected. He was shocked, really shocked and said to expect trouble."

"You worried," Mac asked quietly, gently stroking his fingers across Don's shoulder.

"Nah. Most of the guys are pretty good fellas and we've known each other for such a long time I don't think they'll be bothered."

"Well just take care," Mac warned.

"I always do. It was only Lovato who was all up in my face about it."

"You used to like her," Mac reminded him.

"Yeah well now I don't. And I've apologised a million times for almost kissing her so don't keep on. It was a mistake and I..."

"Don!" Mac almost shouted, trying to be heard over the detective's rant. "I didn't mean it like that. I was only saying that she used to be your friend and now that she's dating Hawkes you should probably try to be nice to her. And I know it was a mistake. I've forgiven you so stop worrying. We all make mistakes."

Don pursed his lips as he sullenly agreed with what Mac was saying. Lovato had been a good friend when she'd first come to the precinct and he'd been quite taken with her, she looked so much like Jess. Mac had known, he always knew. So perceptive of everyone, knowing their thoughts and feelings before they even knew themselves. He'd warned him about her the day he returned from San Francisco, warned him just to take care but had he listened? No. He'd gone round to her apartment weeks later with the Chinese, intent on making nice but instead almost kissed her. She'd thought he'd been jealous about the case but that wasn't it. He cared for her, that was all. Yes, she was pretty and she did look like Jess. But the more he got to know her, the more he realised how different she was. She could never be Jess...or Mac. He'd never felt so much guilt as he had when he'd gone to Mac and admitted what had happened, convinced the older man would leave him immediately. But Mac hadn't done that. They were stronger than that, and Mac had said he trusted him. Don smiled as he recalled that memory. Mac trusted him and he trusted Mac. No more lies. No more deceit.

Don snuggled against the older man. "So what happened with Sinclair?" he asked, changing the subject.

"It went surprising well, actually," Mac smiled. "He didn't think it would be a problem as long as we don't work cases together. We work in different departments and so on and so forth..."

"So I won't be expecting IA to be sitting on my desk in the morning," Don growled.

"Of course not," Mac laughed. Don did like his flair for the dramatic sometimes.

"Good," Don grumbled while Mac continued to laugh and kissed the side of his head.

"By the way, I had an idea for the wedding and wanted to run it past you," Mac smiled.

"Hmmm? What?" Don hummed.

"I think Danny should be best man."

Don turned his head and watched Mac carefully. "Don't you have anyone else you'd rather ask? I mean, I thought you'd want to ask one of your Marine pals or something."

Mac shook his head. "No, I want Danny. He's your best friend and he means such a lot to both of us. It feels right to have someone we both care for."

Don smiled and then nodded his head. "Agreed. I can ask him when we play hoops next week?"

"Good idea," Mac nodded. "And now I think it's time you got some sleep."

"Fine," Don replied, leaning up to give Mac a quick kiss before snuggling down under the covers.

Mac turned off the light and joined him, closing his eyes exhaustedly.

Sleep crept over them, pulling them from the land of consciousness and for a brief moment, a spot on the long stretch of life, they were at peace.

* * *

A/N – Flashback from 5x13


	4. Chapter 4

A/N – I really, really detest this chapter, try as I might I just don't feel it fits. But I have written 5-8 and also 13-15 and they are a lot better I promise so bear with me please.

Big thanks to reviewers, you keep me going :-)

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Four**

"So what are we cooking, chef?" Flack grinned as he sauntered into the kitchen, still towelling off his dark hair from Danny's shower.

"You, my friend, are peeling the spuds!" Danny replied and handed Flack a small sack of potatoes.

"Hmph!" Flack grumped as he took them from him, throwing the towel onto a stool, and began to put them into the sink, swilling them off as he did.

"Stop moaning, you can't have everything," Danny laughed as he sliced up the chicken. "After all, I did let you win this afternoon."

"What?" spluttered Flack, potato peeler in hand waving dramatically through the air as he turned.

"Relax, I'm only joking," Danny replied, rolling his eyes.

"I knew that," Flack frowned as he returned to his potatoes.

"So how are the plans coming along?" Danny asked, seasoning his chicken with various herbs.

"Going well. We've booked a date for in about three and a half month's time..."

"Three months!" yelled Danny, nearly dropping his tray of chicken as he carried it towards the oven.

"Err...yeah," Flack mumbled, turning to look at Danny. "Is that a problem?"

"No, I mean, of course not. It's just...that's not long, Flack!"

Flack smiled and then shrugged. "Doesn't need to be long, Mess. We're not planning anything fancy. And who we gonna invite? Sinclair wants us to keep it small so just a few friends."

"But three months...that's like no time at all," Danny said as he shoved the tray of chicken into the oven, still shocked by the news.

"It's plenty of time," Flack sniggered, laughing at Danny's overly dramatic reaction. "Plus we wanted it to be before Linds has mini-Messer number two; otherwise you guys might not be able to come."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Flack," Danny stated, his eyes set seriously on Flack. "And I mean that. You're my best friend...Mac's like my dad...why on Earth would I miss that?"

"A little thing called your son?" Flack reminded him.

"Oh yeah," Danny grinned as he started making up a sauce to go with the meat and vegetables.

"So how are your plans for the baby coming on?" Flack asked.

"Lindsay's giving up work," Danny said quietly, his back to Flack as he mixed up the sauce.

"What?" Flack asked, eyes wide.

"She's giving up being a CSI. One of us has to, and she's a braver person than I am."

"Danno, you're brave to stay in work," Flack replied, realising his friend needed some cheering up.

"I dunno, Flack. I feel bad for her, she moved here to work as a CSI and cos of me she's giving it up."

"Not cos of you," Flack stated. "Cos of her family. She loves you guys more than anything, including some job. She'll find something else eventually and think of it like this; you won't have to worry about her as much when she's working."

"Depends what she gets," mused Danny.

"Well I don't think she's gonna be a lion tamer, Mess. Or a stuntwoman."

Danny chuckled. "Hey thanks, Flack," he smiled, Flack always knew how best to cheer him up.

"You never know, maybe me and Mac will adopt and they'll be a Don Flack the third for the mini-Messers to play with."

"God help us all," laughed Danny, receiving a sharp dig in the side from Flack. "Anyway, no way will you be having a Flack the third, it'll be a Taylor Junior if anything."

"What?!" Flack yelped in indignation, as he threw a potato at Danny and grinned childishly as it hit the CSI square in the back.

"Ouch!" Danny yelled, jumping in shock as the potato hit him. It thudded to the floor and rolled under the counter. Danny turned around sharply, flicking his sauce spoon at Flack who was sprayed in red juice.

"I'll get you for that, Messer!" growled Flack, wiping his face with a hand and grabbing the open tube of tomato puree on the side.

"Hey, now," Danny said worriedly, hands outstretched to try and stop the taller man. "We're both adults here, let's just be sensible."

"You started it," Flack pointed out as he reluctantly placed the tube back down.

"Hey," Danny suddenly interrupted as a thought came to him. "What food you doing at the wedding? Cos I know the best..."

"Mess..." Flack said calmly, the excitable CSI stopped talking at looked at him. "I've already got that sorted, gave a call to the caterers yesterday."

"Oh," Danny said despondently. "Should have guessed you would have already decided the food, Flack."

"What can I say?" Flack shrugged, grinning. "I like my food."

Danny chuckled in response and then glanced back at his best friend as the detective started on the carrots.

"You had any trouble yet?" he asked quietly.

Flack looked at him thoughtfully and then placed the carrots back down in the sink. He sighed as he thought of what response would be best to tell Danny. He certainly had noticed a few odd stares here and there, a couple of odd whisperings that had stopped when he'd entered a room. Other than that, no-one had approached him, had asked him directly to confirm any rumours they might have heard. But then, it had only been a week and a half since Hatcher and Sinclair had been informed and it normally took a lot longer than that for juicy bits of gossip to become full blown knowledge.

"Nope," Flack mumbled as he picked up a carrot and started to peel it, ignoring the intense stare he received from his best friend. He wondered if Danny could tell he was lying.

"Good," Danny finally said after a while. He went back to his sauce and the two men worked on in silence.

The sun was setting low as they finished up, everything ready to be heated once the others arrived and the two men clambered out onto Danny's rather large window ledge and sat drinking beers. The Messer's apartment was on the ground floor, six steps up into their building, and their lounge window overlooked a small private yard, belonging to the building next door and it was really quite pretty, full of queer plants growing in pots and strange hanging ornaments.

"I swear they grow weed in there," Danny muttered, nodding his bottle towards the building.

"Who lives there?" Flack asked.

"Mr Woo, this old Chinese dude who runs a herbal remedy shop. Well I think his son actually runs it now but it used to be his."

"They probably do then," smiled Flack as he leant back against the wall.

"You ever get high?" Danny asked casually, no judgement in his voice.

Flack grinned rather shyly and took a swig of beer. "Just once. I was a teenager. My brother and I were at a friend's house skiving off school. We got caught by his mum who forced us to go in for the afternoon. Weirdest fucking day of my life...thought I'd died!"

"Ha!" laughed Danny in glee.

"My dad found out. Think Justin's mum told him. He was so pissed at us, we were grounded for weeks. I knew it was a bad idea at the time but my brother really wanted to..."

Flack sighed and looked off towards the building opposite. A small, white haired Chinese man was sat in one of the windows dressed in an oriental robe and smoking a strange looking pipe. He saw Flack looking and gave him a friendly wave. Flack nodded towards him politely.

"I used to do a lot of it with Louie," Danny said suddenly.

Flack looked back at him.

"It was just a given. No-one cared. We all did it."

"If I wasn't a cop I'd say we get some from Mr Woo," Flack muttered.

"Detective Flack, I am shocked!" Danny exclaimed, eyebrows nearly in his hair.

"I'd just like to try it again," Flack shrugged.

"I'll remember that," Danny nodded. "Day you retire I'll be at your door, a huge bag of weed in my hands."

"Better hope Mac doesn't answer then," Flack said, grinning at Danny.

Danny laughed out loud and the two men elapsed into an easy silence. Danny treasured these moments with Flack, his best friend. His bud who had been with him through it all, through thick and thin ever since that terrible day they'd first met. Ironic that one of the greatest tragedies should bring him together with the one man he loved like no other. The man who would later be there for him the day his brother died, who would save him from himself, who would lead him to his beautiful wife and who would now be godfather to his son. There was really no better man than Don Flack.

"What you thinking there, Mess?" Flack asked though he didn't look at him.

"About you."

"Should I be worried?" Flack asked nervously.

"Why? Got something to be worried about?" Danny teased.

Flack shook his head and smiled happily. He loved hanging out with Danny; they were so similar, had the same interests, enjoyed the same stuff and just generally had a good time round each other. Sid had even once remarked it was like they were twins who'd been separated at birth but had found their way back to each other. Flack laughed at that. The world simply didn't work like that and he knew it, as well as the fact that Danny was five years older than him and had almost the exact opposite looks to him. But Danny had always been there for him, both personally and professionally and Flack didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have Danny Messer in his life.

"This is nice," he murmured, swigging his beer. "I'm glad we decided to do this."

"Had to celebrate your engagement in some way," Danny told him. "Still can't believe you're finally doing it."

"You thought I was gonna end up a lonely old man?" Flack asked, pretending to be offended.

"Course not," Danny laughed. He finished off his beer and placed the bottle down next to him. From across the yard Mr Woo waved at him and he waved back cheerfully, laughing to himself. "Do you remember when you first told me?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Told you what?" Flack murmured as he focused on the carrots.

"That you and Mac had been together."

Flack didn't look up. He held the beer bottle tight in his hand as a memory swept over him and suddenly he was holding a whiskey glass instead of a bottle,  
it was full of a shot of the drink and he was sat in a bar.

_It had been a boisterous evening with nearly everyone going for a drink after work to celebrate the capture of the Cabbie Killer. Even Adam, the timid lab-tech had joined them for a few. He had left earlier followed shortly by Lindsay who still wasn't on the best of terms with Danny. The three men left had then switched from the beer to something a bit stronger and started up a few games of pool. Only when Hawkes had taken as much money as he could from the other two did he leave with a huge grin on his face. After that the mood had slightly dimmed and Danny and Flack had returned to their seats and finished their drinks in silence, looking rather solemn._

_"So you gonna tell me what's going on with you and Linds?" Flack asked gruffly ._

_Danny shook his head wearily. "She's pissed at me, Flack."_

_"Yeah, doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. What you do?"_

_"Slept with Rikki."_

_Flack spat his drink all over the table in shock and sprayed Danny in the process._

_Danny scowled at him. "You're lucky I'm drunk, Flack, or I'd get you for that."_

_"You slept with Rikki!" Flack repeated as if he couldn't believe it. "You're an idiot, Mess."_

_"Hey!"_

_"You can never realise when you got a good thing going, can ya?"_

_"What d'ya mean?"_

_"Lindsay is a great girl. She's pretty and clever and for some unfathomable reason she's head over heels in love with you!"_

_Danny scowled again and rested his face in his hands. "I know, I know."_

_"And you go and blow all that by sleeping with another woman!" Flack muttered shaking his head._

_"We just...we needed some time to get over...I guess...she just understood me , Flack. You know? After Reuben she was the only one who got it."_

_Flack looked sadly at Danny. "It wasn't your fault, Danno."_

_"I know. Doesn't stop me from blaming myself though."_

_"Listen. Don't lose Lindsay over this. You'll regret it for the rest of your life. Trust me."_

_Danny frowned at Flack and narrowed his eyes. "Sounds like you're speaking from experience there, Flack."_

_Flack only hummed in response._

_"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain pretty, brunette homicide detective I've heard you've been flirting with recently?"_

_Flack grinned and blushed slightly. "I do like Jess. But we haven't exactly got that far yet, if ya know what I mean."_

_Danny grinned as the mood suddenly lightened up. "So who were you talking about then?"_

_Flack sighed and looked away. How was he supposed to tell Danny he'd been sleeping with Mac for two years?_

_"Come on, man. You can tell me!"_

_Danny was still grinning and Flack knew that as soon as he told him, that smile would be wiped from his face. But then, Danny was his best friend and if he couldn't trust him...then who could he?_

_"It was Mac, Danno."_

_Danny started sniggering and grinned all the more. "Come on, Flack. I may be drunk but I'm not that drunk. Tell me..."_

_Flack swallowed nervously and didn't smile. "Mess, it was Mac."_

_Danny's smiled faltered and slowly dropped from his face. "Serious? Don't be kidding around here, Flack."_

_Flack wiped a hand over his face. "I'm not. Mac and me were sleeping together for two years until he went to London."_

_Danny's mouth dropped open and he simply stared. Flack watched him nervously and fidgeted with his hands. He had no idea what Danny was going to do next. Would he hate him for being gay? Would he hate him because it was his boss? Or would he simply hate him because it was Mac?_

_"You slept with Mac," Danny finally said as if trying to make himself believe it._

_"Look, Danny. I'm still the same okay? Just cos..."_

_"Is that why you were so up and down all of last year? Was he fucking you about?" Danny growled. His fists clenched and for a moment Flack thought he was going to stand up and hunt Mac down there and then._

_"Danno!" Flack started._

_"Sorry. It just all fits into place now. You guys were both so moody. I thought it was me who'd done something to piss you both off."_

_"So you don't mind?" asked Flack nervously._

_Danny thought about it for a moment before answering. "Do I mind you being gay...or bi, whatever...no. Do I mind you slept with Mac, our boss? Well, it's a little weird but whatever floats your boat. Do I mind you kept it from me for this long? Yes."_

_"I'm sorry, Danno. I just didn't know how you'd take it. I was worried you'd..."_

_"Flack, you're my best friend," Danny interrupted. "Even closer, you're like my little brother, man. You've always been there for me. You were the only one who stood by me at the Minhas shooting, you were there when Louie died and you had my back when Rikki stole my gun. I love you, man. You could like men...women...fucking chickens for all I care, I'd still love you."_

_Flack's eyes watered with emotion and for once he didn't feel like calling Danny out on being a sissy. He'd never felt so relieved in his entire life and it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from him._

_"I love you too, Danno."_

_Danny smiled at him. "So you gotta tell me how you came about sleeping with Mac!"_

_Flack blushed slightly. "Well I'd always liked him, Danno. From the first time I met him in fact. I remember I was such a mumbling fool cos I was so embarrassed."_

_Danny chuckled at that._

_"Then we started dating from around the time Lindsay joined."_

_"That long ago?" Danny said in shock. "Wow!"_

_"Yeah, that long ago. And it was by no means perfect. It was all secret but I was happy. I fell in love with him, Danno. I thought we'd always be together," Flack admitted softly._

_"So what happened?" asked Danny in interest._

_"The explosion."_

_"What?" Danny frowned, sounding suddenly angry._

_"I was in hospital and he told me it was for the best we didn't carry on. Said it was for my own good, that I'd only get hurt."_

_"Hold on. So let me get this right. You were in hospital, recovering from that explosion and Mac dumps you?"_

_Flack shrugged and nodded his head._

_"Bastard," Danny muttered._

_"It's alright, Danno. I got over that a long time ago."_

_"Still...it's not on, Flack. What kind of a..."_

_"Mess," warned Flack._

_Danny growled and then released his frown. "Okay so was that it then?"_

_Flack shook his head. "He started seeing Peyton a few months later. It nearly broke my heart. I couldn't believe he'd gotten over me so quickly. But then he came to see me after the Chopper Tevis case and wanted to get back together. He told me he loved me and he'd leave Peyton. I believed him. I let him in again."_

_"But he lied?" Danny asked in horror._

_"We broke up again a few weeks later you know, the day he arrested Dean Truby...But then a few weeks after that we got back together...again. Every time I believed his lies. Believed he loved me and cared for me. Believed he was going to leave her for me...and each time...each time he lied."_

_"It's okay, Flack. I understand," Danny said quickly and reached out to touch Flack's hand. "So I'm guessing he chose her then? Cos he went to London?"_

_Flack nodded. "I felt like I'd died, Danno. Like my heart had been ripped from my body. I've never experienced anything like that in my entire life."_

_"If I'd known...I would've...would've..."_

_Flack smiled gratefully. "He's your boss, Danno. You wouldn't have done anything. I wouldn't have allowed you to."_

_"I wish you'd told me sooner. I could have been there for you, just like you've been there for me."_

_"I wanted to, hell, I even nearly did a few times. But then I'd either chicken out...or you'd be so busy I didn't want to burden you with more."_

_"I'm never too busy for you, Flack."_

_Flack nodded and smiled while tears glistened in his eyes._

_"So how are you and Mac now?"_

_Flack sighed heavily. "We're okay. We had a chat when Peyton broke up with him and I got everything I wanted to say off my chest. He knows how much he hurt me, Danno, and I think he does regret it."_

_"And you like Jess now?"_

_Flack smiled happily. "Yeah. Yeah I do. I really like her."_

_"Good," Danny grinned. "Well make sure you do something about it."_

_"I will," Flack nodded. "As long as you do something about Lindsay."_

_"Fine," grumbled Danny. "Though she really hates me."_

_"Stop being chicken, Danno, she doesn't hate you, she loves you," Flack said sternly. "And just for the record I do NOT like chickens," he added as an afterthought._

_Danny snorted with laughter. "Good. Cos I don't think I can take much more tonight. You and Mac...who'd have thought!"_

_Flack laughed. "Now that I've finally moved on I can kinda see how weird it must seem."_

_"Well imagine if I'd just told you I'd been seeing Mac for two years!"_

_Flack burst out into laughter. "Oh, Mess. You're funny, you know that?"_

_"Yeah, I guess that's just too weird."_

_"Shut-up, Mess," laughed Flack._

_"So does anyone else know?" Danny grinned._

_"Nope. Never told anyone. Well, except for Sammie."_

_"Cool."_

_Flack and Danny finished up their drinks and then decided to call it a night as it was getting late._

_"So...I'll see you tomorrow," Danny nodded at Flack once they got outside._

_"Yep."_

_"I'm not sure if I'll be able to look at Mac in the same way ever again."_

_"It's not like we're together anymore," excused Flack._

_"Nah, not that. I mean...I kinda have the urge to hit him for being a prick to you."_

_Flack smiled at Danny. "I appreciate the sentiment, I really do. And if you told me that this time last year, I'd probably have told you to go and do it. But I'm okay now, really. I got over him a long time ago and I'm moving on."_

_"Love you, man," Danny suddenly said, pulling Flack into a big hug._

_"Love you too," Flack returned and hugged him back._

_They broke apart and Flack turned one way while Danny the other._

_"Hey, Flack!"_

_Flack turned around to look back at Danny._

_"Don't you ever keep stuff like this from me again!" he warned and then carried on walking._

_Flack grinned and felt happy as he walked home._

"Yeah, I remember," Flack mumbled as he shook the memory away. Despite it being a good one for him and Danny, it was a sad one for him and Mac and Flack no longer wanted to remember those days.

"You okay?" Danny asked in concern, reaching out and patting Flack on the shoulder.

"Yeah, it's all good," nodded Flack and gave Danny a pathetic smile.

"Good. Cos it's all wedding bells and newborn babies for us from now on so we gotta be happy!" grinned Danny.

"You make us sound like a couple of chicks!" Flack moaned as he drained his beer.

"We just played ball and we're cops, Flack. Doesn't get much manlier than that."

"But we also cooked dinner," Flack replied.

"Men can cook, look at all those professional chefs," Danny retorted. "Besides that's different. That's for our family."

Flack smiled happily. Danny always included him and Mac whenever he referred to his family, even when they hadn't been together. And it was true, it did feel like they were a family. Mac, Lindsay, Danny, Lucy and himself. And of course mini Messer number two.

"Speaking of family," Flack said nervously. "I wanted to ask you something actually."

"Oh?" Danny murmured casually as he watched Mr Woo trying out some strange sort of dance in his lounge, robe flapping round him.

"We want you to be best man, Danno," Flack said hurriedly, nervous to get it out.

Danny froze for a millisecond and then turned to look at Flack. "Me?" he exclaimed.

"Yeah. You mean so much to both of us, we can't think of anyone else we'd rather have."

"But..." Danny frowned for a moment.

"You don't want to?" Flack said sadly, realisation of his friend's reluctance hitting him.

"No, no, it's not that at all. It's just I tried to break you up...I mean, I said you shouldn't be together so why would you want me?"

Flack sighed and thought about it for a moment. Danny was quite right. He had actively discouraged him from getting back with Mac. There had been the time after that weird vampire case, Flack had mentioned to Danny that he was starting to get feelings for Mac again and Danny had told him on no account to go back there. Then there had been the time after that head of the Barcelona Crime Lab had come over to work with them. Mac had already made it clear that he wanted him back by that point; Flack had been unsure and gone to Danny for advice. A resounding No! had been the clear answer from his friend. And once again there had been the time when they'd gone out for drinks to celebrate and commiserate Danny's return to the CSI department.

_ "You sure this is the right decision, Mess?" Flack asked worriedly for the third time that evening._

_"Yeah. I need to be with people I trust. Those kids...those kids just dobbed me straight in it. I had their backs and they didn't give a shit about me. Fed me to the lions!"_

_"I'm sorry, Danno," Flack murmured sadly, patting his friend's shoulder._

_"I'll get over it. I get to see more of Linds again this way...and you."_

_"Lucky you," Flack grinned causing Danny to chuckle._

_"Nah, seriously. You gotta trust your colleagues," Flack agreed. "Cos if you can't and they betray you..."_

_Danny glanced up from his pint at Flack who was deep in thought. "Truby?" Danny murmured._

_Flack nodded. "I still can't believe he did that. I've always blamed myself for what happened that day. But Mac was right. It was Dean's fault and no-one else's."_

_"Wow," Danny smirked. "I never thought I'd hear you defend Mac over that."_

_Flack eyed him cautiously. "It was a long time ago, Danno. I was more pissed at him because he was sleeping with Peyton, and the Truby thing was just the icing on the case."_

_Danny shrugged and gulped down some of the tasty lager. "Oh well, at least you're out of it now."_

_Flack turned his head away from the CSI toward the bar and hummed quietly, his fingers playing with the bottle he held in his hands._

_"Flack?" Danny asked._

_"Mess," Flack replied evasively._

_"What aren't you telling me, Flack?" Danny asked._

_"Nothing, Mess. Course there's nothing."_

_"Then why won't you look at me?"_

_Flack sighed and looked back round at Danny. "Me and Mac are back together."_

_"What?" Danny said sharply._

_Flack flinched at his tone. "We got back together a few weeks ago."_

_"I knew this would happen," Danny said shaking his head. "Do you remember what he did to you? He left you while you were hospitalised. He used you while he was sleeping with Peyton. I bet he never even planned to leave her for you!"_

_"I know this, Danny. I know better than anyone cos at the time no-one else knew, not even you so don't pretend like you did."_

_Danny shook his head again. "I'm just looking out for you, Flack."_

_"I know you are and I appreciate that, Danno. But none of us are the same. Look at you, five years ago you were a womanising bastard, sleeping with anything in a skirt and getting into trouble at work. Now you're happily married with a daughter and even passed your Sergeant's exam."_

_Danny leant back in his chair and watched Flack carefully._

_"I changed too, Danno. And so has Mac. I've spent most of the last few years being alone except for when I was with Jess. And Mac has too. We have a chance to be happy, I'm not gonna miss that chance."_

_Danny sighed deeply and then forward again, draining his glass and then placing it loudly on the table._

_"You're right," he nodded._

_"Pardon?" Flack said._

_"You're right, Flack. I have changed. So have you. And I hope for your sake Mac has too."_

_"Just trust me on this one, Danno? Okay?"_

_Danny placed a hand on Flack's arm and squeezed it gently in a brotherly way. "I always trust you, Flack."_

"I want you cos I love you and you're my brother and there's no-one else," Flack stated as he brought his eyes up to Danny's and pleaded with them.

"And what about Mac?" Danny asked anxiously.

"We both do. It was his idea. We love you, Danno. Please say yes?"

Danny smiled and rubbed a hand over his face. "Course I will then, stupid," he laughed. "Just wanted you to be sure."

"I am," Flack grinned.

* * *

Mac looked up as a soft tap on his door signalled that someone wanted entry. Jo was stood there, some papers in her hand and a large grin on her face. Mac gestured at her to come in and she did so, taking a seat opposite him.

"So, Mac Taylor, I want all the juicy details please," she smiled.

"I beg your pardon?" Mac frowned, completely unaware of to what she was referring.

"The wedding," laughed Jo. "I want the details. Have you decided when and where yet? I know this fabulous chapel down on..."

"Jo," Mac said sternly. She grinned and fell silent. "I don't think either of us wish to marry in a chapel. Sinclair wants us to keep it a small affair and that's fine by us."

"Oh," Jo said despondently. "And I was looking forward to putting on all my gladrags."

"We're just going to go down to City Hall and invite only those closest to us. Then we'll hire out somewhere for afterwards. We were thinking McTiers."

Jo gawped at him and then frowned, tutting. "Mac Taylor, you absolutely cannot have your wedding reception in a bar! That poor boy deserves better from you."

"It was his idea," Mac defended.

"I don't care. You are not having a wedding in a bar!"

"It's not your choice," Mac smiled, amused at her outrage.

She opened her mouth to return a witty remark but Mac was saved from it as another tap on his door distracted them both. Lindsay was standing there.

"Lindsay, come in," Mac nodded in relief as the younger woman entered.

"Hey Mac, hey Jo," she smiled at them both.

"Did you know Mac's planning on having his wedding reception in a bar?" Jo said incredulously.

"A bar? Really?" Lindsay gasped and then changed her look when she saw Mac's face. "Ahem, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment, Mac?"

"Certainly," Mac nodded, gesturing to the other chair in front of him.

"Well, I'll be off," Jo smiled, standing and heading for the door.

"Jo?" Mac called after her.

She turned back and stared at him in bewilderment.

"Were those papers for me?" he asked, eyeing them.

"Oh," she laughed as she came forward and handed them to him. "I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on."

Lindsay and Mac exchanged a look as she grinned and then left the room. Mac shook his head in exasperation, before turning his attention to the young woman before him.

"How may I help you, Lindsay?" he asked.

She sighed and scratched one arm.

"I'm just gonna come straight out and say this," she nodded. "I'd like to hand in my resignation, Mac. After the baby is born, I don't plan to come back to work."

Mac nodded understandingly and watched her carefully.

"I thought this might happen."

"You thought I'd quit?" she asked in surprise.

"I thought you and Danny would need to make a decision regarding your family," Mac stated.

Lindsay nodded and sighed. "I love it here, Mac. I really do. I love being a CSI. But I need to put my family first," she said regretfully.

Mac smiled sympathetically. "What does Danny think?"

Lindsay blinked as she suddenly felt herself overwhelmed with emotion.

"He feels bad, I think. He knows how much I love my job, it's been a part of my life, of our lives for so long now. But one of us had to take that next step..."

"And it was you," Mac finished.

"Danny so wants to be the brave one, to sacrifice for his family. But he need to stay in work, he needs this place, the lab...and you, Mac. He needs to be with you guys, with you and Flack and Jo, Hawkes, Adam...if it hadn't been for you believing in him...this is so much more a part of his life than mine and it always has been. And I need to be at home with my children."

"You've thought about this very logically, Lindsay, and very sensibly," Mac nodded. He watched her for a moment, studying her body language. "How do you feel?"

"Like this is the right decision," she nodded.

"No," Mac shook his head. "How do you feel about it? Selfishly, how do you really feel?"

Lindsay looked down, her eyes welling up but no tears falling, she wouldn't let them. This wasn't the time or place.

"I don't want to leave. I'd work here until the day I died if I could. But I love Danny so much more than that. And my children are the most important thing in the world to me, even more important than Danny. I'd gladly sacrifice everything for them. So how do I feel? I'm going to be there for every concert, every recital, every science fair, every sports match. I feel like I'm the luckiest person alive to be able to do that. I can't wait, Mac."

"And Danny doesn't want that?" Mac asked cautiously.

"Danny wants to feel useful, to feel he is the man and looking after his family. He wants to be the one in work."

"We'll all miss you here, Lindsay."

"I know you will, I'll miss everyone so much too," she said sadly.

"Things just won't be the same without you," Mac replied, standing up and coming around his desk.

"Things change, Mac," she murmured as she stood.

Mac nodded sadly and hugged her, sad and at the same time happy for his family.

"They certainly do," he agreed.

* * *

"Mac, will I come see you soon?" Lucy Messer asked tiredly as she yawned and snuggled further into her father's side.

"Lucy Messer, hand up when you yawn!" scolded Lindsay.

"Aw, come on Linds. She's had an exciting evening," Danny defended.

Lindsay smiled. "Fine. But time for bed I think," she replied, standing up and lifting her daughter off her husband.

"I want Mac to read me story," Lucy said as she blinked her big blue eyes at Mac.

"I'd love to do that, Lucy," Mac stated as he stood up and took her from Lindsay. "And yes, we'll see you next week when you come to stay with us."

"I like staying with you Mac. And with Don."

Mac turned and smiled briefly at Don, who returned his grin, before taking Lucy down the hallway to her bedroom. A moment later they heard his soft voice reading the tale of the Princess and the Pea.

"Why does she never ask me to read her a story?" Flack grumped as he looked towards the hallway. "Even when she stays with us it's always Mac she wants to read the story."

"Cos Mac's the favourite Uncle, isn't he!" Danny joked grinning at Flack.

"Great," Flack grumbled. "Kids hate me."

Danny and Lindsay both laughed loudly. "Kids don't hate you, Flack. Luce said when she asked you to read her a story once the voices you did were so scary they gave her nightmares. We told her not to ask you anymore."

"Oh!" Flack said in surprise. "You could have just told me."

"Feeling a little rejected, eh?" Danny laughed.

Flack ignored him and turned to Lindsay. "So you're really giving up work then, Linds?"

"Yep," she nodded. "It's the best thing for our family."

Flack nodded and once more glanced down the corridor, wondering if he'd ever give up work for Mac. Almost as quickly as he'd wondered that he knew what the answer was. Yes. Most definitely.

"You think you'll get another job?" Flack asked.

"After a while, I'll get bored doing nothing," Lindsay smiled.

Danny placed his arm round her and pulled her close.

"I could probably get you some work down at the YMCA if you're interested? It would just be voluntary but sometimes that leads to paid work?"

"Thanks Flack," Lindsay said appreciatively. "I'll definitely think about it."

Flack grinned and looked up as Mac returned from Lucy's bedroom and sat down beside him, placing a hand on his leg. Both men noticed the Messers watching them.

"Out like a light. Didn't even get five pages in," Mac laughed.

"Hey, she doesn't like me reading the stories cos I make them too scary," Flack said proudly to Mac.

"You are rather scary, Don," Mac said seriously.

"That's a bit rich coming from you," Flack replied.

He grinned happily and Mac squeezed his knee. Danny turned his head and kissed Lindsay's cheek. It had been a perfect evening.

* * *

A/N – Flashbacks in order are 4x20 and 8x04


	5. Chapter 5

A/N – Thank you to people who were nice about the last chapter, I still hate it but hey ho, I think that's life. Anyway, it's good for you guys cos I'm updating quickly for that reason.

Thank you so much reviewers, you're all so lovely and seeing your reviews makes me really happy. :)

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Five**

Flack descended the stairs to the morgue housed within the New York City Crime Lab. He hated it down there, the smell of death indescribable. It surrounded you, suffocated you and he felt like he was choking on it as the stench filled his nostrils. He shivered slightly, the temperature always low to preserve as much evidence on the bodies as possible. He didn't know how they worked down here; he'd never be able to stomach it. Death didn't scare him, it never had. Blood and gore had never once made him feel nauseous, not even on his first cases as a homicide detective, or the first time he'd seen a serious wound as a young officer on the streets. But down here, down here where the air seemed permeated with death itself, he felt he couldn't breathe. That he was choking, body starving to get out into the light again. He could see Sid through the glass doors, working intensely on a body on a slab. A body on a slab. That phrase always made him sick. Life after death. The soul gone, fled of its mortal shell; and all that remained, all that survived, was the thick lump of flesh and bone that had once been you. Been a person; a living, breathing human being. The emptiness of life, that was what the morgue made him think of. There was birth, the start of course, then life and then the end, death. But the morgue was 'after death', life and death's destruction, and that's why he hated it there. He could stomach death, that wasn't the problem, but he hated the coldness and loneliness of after it passed.

"Detective Flack, how nice to see you down here," Sid greeted him as the tall, lanky homicide detective made his way over toward him.

"Sid," Flack nodded.

"This is a rare treat, I don't often see you down here," Sid observed, an enquiring tone to his statement.

"Jo and Lindsay are still working on the evidence upstairs," Flack muttered. "And the others are working on that Vernon Smith case."

"Ah yes," Sid nodded. "Such a sad case. Wife came home to find him butchered to death. Can you even imagine that?"

"Some people are animals," Flack growled angrily as he imagined coming home to find Mac like that. The thought made him all the more closer to actually vomiting.

"They certainly are," Sid replied sadly. He moved away from the mutilated form of Vernon Smith and over to a second table where he drew back the sheet covering it.

"Christy Lombard," Sid remarked, staring down at the dead woman. "COD was a gunshot to the back of the head; I retrieved the bullet for you if you could be so kind to take it upstairs?"

Flack stared sadly at the dead woman on the slab. Forty-five years old, mother of three, divorced twice and worked as an emergency room nurse. There was nothing spectacular about her, about her life, just an ordinary, everyday person. Flack didn't know why the back of her head had been blown off with a Lupara. They'd found the gun in the bathtub of her small apartment, the body on the bathroom floor and Jo and Lindsay were in ballistics now testing it out."

"Sure," Flack replied as he took the bullet. "Any tox?"

"The basic screen showed up negative for opiates, amphetamines, marijuana, alcohol, and barbiturates. Toxicology will be able to do further analysis."

"Anything else?" Flack asked solemnly as he shivered again and briefly wondered if the spirits of the dead walked among them down in the morgue.

"I've collected the trace from behind the nails," Sid replied, handing the small dish to Flack. "The strange thing is there are no defensive wounds on her, no sign of a struggle."

"So she just let someone shoot her in the back of the head?" asked Flack in confusion.

"If Toxicology finds no drugs in her system then she must have been conscious. There is nothing else to suggest she was unconscious before she was shot."

"Strange," Flack mumbled as he turned from the body.

"Such is life, Detective Flack. Such is life," Sid replied.

Flack nodded and proceeded to leave the morgue through the glass doors.

"Detective Flack?" Sid called.

"Yep?" Flack muttered as he turned back.

"All going well with you?" Sid asked kindly.

Flack managed a small smile despite the discomfort he felt in the morgue. "I'm telling my sister tonight."

"Good luck with that then," Sid smiled.

Flack sighed and headed back upstairs.

* * *

Mac drew his coat around him as he turned the corner and walked down the sidewalk, dodging people as he made his way to his favourite cafe. It wasn't a glamorous place or commercial. Just a small, independent business run by a large Italian man by the name of Sal and the dozens of children he seemed to have. Despite being rather grubby looking on the outside it had an extremely loyal following and the same people could often be found in there. Sal made the best sandwiches that Mac had ever tasted, although it wasn't often he managed to get a long enough break to go there and enjoy them. Today was different though; unless Jo needed him he'd specifically set aside this hour to have lunch. The bell above the door gave a little dingle as he entered and the few people in there looked up.

Moustache man, as Don had Christened him the first time he'd joined Mac for a sandwich there. The old man with snowy white hair had a moustache so long that it curled round in circles and Don had wondered if he went in for competitions. The man with the newspaper. It didn't matter what day, what time, what month or even what year Mac visited, the man with the newspaper would inevitably be sat at his usual table by the window reading the same newspaper. It was dated March 5th 1962 and yet Mac had no idea what the significance of that date was. Why the man should read it over and over again. He'd never asked, it wasn't his place. People were free to do as they liked in society. The gaping ladies. That was another of Don's names. Two old ladies would sit in a corner nattering to one another about nothing terribly important. The reason Don had named them the gaping ladies was that neither of them had any teeth. Mac had never noticed this but Don had overheard Sal talking to them about liquidised sandwiches. Mac wondered why they didn't get false teeth; perhaps they simply didn't want the fuss. The lady with the hamster. She'd come in and take her pet hamster out of her pocket, putting it on the table where it'd sit and nibble at odd crumbs of cake she'd feed it. It never tried to escape or run away and Mac was sure that the Food Hygiene Inspectors would have a field day with Sal letting her in. But then, dogs were welcome and it wasn't like the hamster ever left her table. Finally there was crust man. Mac had named him that himself. He never bought a sandwich from Sal but instead would get a bag of crusts which he'd take to a seat and chew on until they were all gone. He might possibly have been homeless but he always insisted on paying for his crusts. All these people seemed to live such simple lives and yet be happy with it. It made Mac feel ashamed that his own life could be so complicated sometimes.

"Mac Taylor, I've not seen you here in a long while," Sal boomed heartily from across the counter.

"Sal. I'm afraid work has been busy," Mac replied a little sadly.

"People won't stop hurting each other, eh, my friend?"

"Something like that."

"The way of the world."

"Unfortunately," Mac murmured.

"So what can I get you? The usual?"

Mac smiled that Sal still remembered his order. "Thanks Sal."

"I'll bring it over."

"Oh, Sal?" Mac said, pausing on the way to his usual table.

Sal looked at him expectantly.

"Make it times two."

"Coming right up," Sal smiled.

Mac weaved his way between the tables to the one he always sat at. It was a small one set in the corner, away from the others and easy to miss for anyone who only glanced hurriedly around the room. Mac liked it because it was more peaceful there and he didn't have to put up with anyone taking notice of him. He'd only just sat down when the bell above the door gave a small dingle and Mac looked up. Danny Messer had entered the cafe and Mac waved him over.

"Mac, am I late?" Danny asked breathlessly.

"Not at all, I've only just got here myself," Mac replied.

"Good. Linds asked me to pick up some red cabbage on my way."

"Red cabbage?" Mac asked in amusement.

"Yeah, she's got such a craving for it at the moment. We've had slaw every night this week and now she's taken to eating them raw like an apple or something." Danny grimaced at the thought.

"How far on is she now?" Mac asked.

"She's five and a half months. You really should remember that as your wedding is a month before her due date," Danny grinned.

"It's soon isn't it?" Mac murmured.

"Nervous?" Danny asked.

"Not really," Mac mused. "It sounds terrible but I look forward to it being over. A wedding is just a show, a party that's really quite unnecessary. I look forward to my married life with Don, not the actual day."

"I think Flack's excited," Danny mumbled.

"I'm sure he is," smiled Mac as he thought of Don's excited face. "He's never done it before."

"You don't think it'll be as special because it's your second time?" Danny asked rather abrasively.

Mac paused for thought and smiled again. "No. I don't compare them. Claire and Don are two very different people. However I thought my wedding day to Claire was going to be the best day of my life. It was only afterwards that I realised it wasn't. Getting to wake up beside her every morning, knowing she was my wife, well those were the best days. And I look forward to having that with Don. I look forward to making if official, to the whole world knowing that he's my husband. To waking up with him every morning for the rest of my life."

Danny smiled and leant back in his seat. "Who knew you were such a romantic, Mac?" he laughed.

Mac arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm a man of many hidden layers, as Don says," Mac replied.

"He's got your number, alright," Danny laughed.

Mac smiled and watched as the man with the newspaper circled something in it.

"So I told Reed yesterday," he said conversationally.

"What did he say? I mean, did he know..." Danny drifted off, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"He was pleased for us; he's very much a young man of the times. And yes he already knew about Don and me. He's stayed round a few times; those two are like a couple of kids when they get on Don's console, rather like you and him."

Danny chuckled. "That's good then. He'll be at the wedding?"

"He's got it marked in his online diary," Mac laughed.

At that moment a boy of roughly eight years old came over with a tray holding two coffee cups and a large pot of coffee. The tray was rather large for the small boy and the cups rattled terribly as he made his way to them.

"Papa says it's on the house," squeaked the boy as he gingerly placed the tray on the table, helped somewhat by Danny.

"That's very generous of him," Mac smiled kindly.

"He saw your ring, says it is a happy day."

Danny was taken aback as he swore he saw Mac almost blush. He looked down at the older man's hand and found it to be true. A plain silver band was visible around his left ring finger. Danny wondered when he'd got it and if Flack had one too. He was sure he hadn't the last time he'd seen the lanky detective.

"You Sal's kid?" Mac was asking the boy even though it was rather obvious he was.

"Sì, Signore. I am Este."

"And how many brothers and sister do you have, Este?"

"Eight older than me, Signore, and five smaller."

"Wow!" Danny muttered. And he'd thought one was hard enough.

"Papa says you are the big policeman?" Este enquired.

Danny snorted with laughter and Mac looked slightly bemused.

"I am a policeman. I work in the Crime Lab, do you know what that is?"

"No, Signore."

"It means I investigate the crimes and analyse the scenes."

"You catch bad men, Signore?"

Mac chuckled. "Yes, yes I do. And so does my friend here."

The small boy turned from Mac to Danny and stared at him wide eyed, mouth slightly agape.

"But it's mostly Mac, he's very clever," Danny laughed.

"Nonsense," Mac stated. "Danny here is an excellent crimefighter. Like a superhero."

Danny blushed himself as the boy let out an audible, "Wow!"

"Supereroe?" Este murmured.

"No, Mac è un supereroe. Cattura molti criminali e salva molte vite," Danny replied glancing at Mac as he did so.

Mac watched as the young boy turned back towards him, mouth still open.

"Este, Danny ti sta solo prendendo in giro. Egli deve mantenere la sua identità segreta. Promettimi che non lo dirai a nessuno?"

"No, Signore. Mai."

"Good boy," Mac grinned as he chuckled at Danny's expression of bewilderment.

"Este, you leave these men alone," boomed Sal as he approached with two platefuls of food. "Here you go, enjoy."

"Thanks, Sal," Mac nodded. "And I will be paying," he added sincerely.

"Nonsense. I see your ring, Mac. It's about time you had one on your finger. How long has it been since you last had one there?"

Mac sighed a little sadly as he thought of Claire. "Twelve years."

"Exactly, long enough. I think in all the time you've been coming here I can give you a free couple of sandwiches."

"It's too generous," Mac stated. Despite the loyal customers, he knew Sal struggled with all his kids.

Sal smiled gratefully but stood firm. "So you finally made an honest man of that boy you're always bringing in here?"

This time Mac blushed furiously and Danny had to laugh. "He sure is about to," he chuckled.

"About time too. Congratulations," Sal said loudly.

Mac was suddenly aware of everyone else in the cafe looking over at him and the gaping women even clapped a little. Crust man raised a crust toward him.

"Come on, Este, let's leave these two in peace," Sal said, taking his son's hand and leading him away.

"But Papa, sono supereroi..." Mac heard the little boy mumble as he was lead away. So much for keeping the secret.

"You didn't tell me you could speak Italian, Mac?" Danny asked with interest.

"I learnt years ago. I had a friend I met abroad who was Italian and I learnt so I could speak at his wedding. I was his best man."

"That's nice of you," Danny nodded.

"He was a good friend," Mac murmured. "So how're things with you?"

Danny sighed heavily as he picked up his fork and poked at the bit of side salad on his plate.

"That bad?" Mac asked in surprise as he poured them both a coffee.

"I dunno, Mac. I feel like everything's getting on top of me."

Mac tilted his head in thought. "How so?"

Danny flung his fork down onto the table. "I just feel scared. I'm scared of Lindsay not being at work anymore, I'm scared of becoming a father for the second time, I'm scared of having a son, I'm scared of the future."

"Danny, you're an amazing father," Mac reassured.

"I never feel like that. I wonder if I'm doing the right thing with Luce all the time. I just don't feel ready for this baby. I mean, a boy! I don't know the first thing about boys!"

Mac smiled. "Danny, you're a great father to Lucy and she loves you very much. And you do realise you used to be a boy yourself?"

Danny smiled with Mac. "Yeah, it sounds stupid. I guess I do know how to handle Lucy now. But then it feels like I've just got to grips with the first one and now I'm having another."

"You'll be fine, Danny. You've done such a great job with Lucy, you both have. Having another really won't be that different, despite it being a little boy."

"I just feel like everything's changing so fast. I mean, we discussed that one of might eventually have to leave work way, even before this baby...but now it's actually happening. Lindsay's leaving and the baby's coming."

"You feel bad for her?" Mac asked as he bit into his sandwich.

"I feel like she's doing all the sacrificing while I stand blindly aside, doing fuck all. Sorry."

"She wants to do this, Danny. She wants to do it for her family, for the children...for you."

"Then what am I supposed to do, Mac?" Danny asked miserably.

"Support her, support them. It's your job and I know you know that. They're your family, Danny. You just carry on as you have been, looking after them, taking care of everything and being a good husband and father."

Danny nodded, swallowing a deep gulp of air. "Thanks, Mac."

"You're bound to panic, Danny. It's natural."

"I just feel so useless. Like maybe I should leave work too? That I should put aside more time for my family?"

"Danny, Lindsay is going to be unemployed in a couple of months. She needs you to have a secure job to support her."

"But I'm worried that I won't be here, Mac. What if something happens?"

"Don't tempt fate, Danny. Nothing is going to happen to you."

"I just want to be a good father, Mac," Danny sighed hopelessly.

"You already are, Danny," Mac smiled. "And you're family are lucky to have you."

* * *

"Donny!" Sam greeted her brother as he opened the door for her.

"Hey, Sammie!" he greeted back, pulling her into a hug.

"I told you not to call me that," she moaned.

"Then don't call me Donny," Don complained.

The siblings broke apart and smirked at each other. Don shut the door as Sam made her way into the lounge.

"So where's the old man?" she asked.

"Sam, I told you, you gotta stop calling him that," moaned Don.

"Sorry, Don," she laughed, she knew it wound him up. "Where's Mac?"

"At work. He sends his apologies but his case just got turned on its head."

"Meh, it happens," Sam shrugged as she pulled off her jacket and hung it over the back of the couch. "So what you cooking?"

"Pasta and meatballs. Won't be ready for a half hour," Don replied. "You want a drink?"

"Giving Grams a run for her money, eh?" Sam giggled. "Sure, got any juice?"

"Think we have some oj," Don mumbled as he disappeared to the kitchen.

Sam sat down on the couch and looked round the room. She'd been to Mac's apartment many times before, ever since Don had told her he was in a serious relationship with the older detective. But Mac had always been there too, it had never been just Don and herself. And this time, she couldn't help but notice how many more of her brother's belongings were lying about the room.

"Hey, Don? You move in here or something?" she shouted to the kitchen.

Don returned a moment later with two glasses of juice which he set on the table, making sure he used the coasters, before sitting down next to her.

"Kind of," he mumbled.

She turned to look at him, a frown of confusion on her face. "Well either you did or you didn't?"

"I'm about to," Don nodded.

"Well good for you," Sam smiled. "It's about time you did something to make yourself happy after all these years."

"Mmmm," Don hummed in agreement.

"Grams will be really pleased for you. You'll have no reason not to introduce her to Mac now; she's dying to meet him."

"You think she'll like him?" Don asked nervously.

"Don, she'll like anyone who makes you happy. And I don't think it's Mac you need to worry about. If I were you, I'd be worried about what Grams will be telling your boyfriend," Sam teased. "You think I'm bad but she's like a hundred times worse."

"So you finally introduce her to Jimmy?" Don asked.

"Nah, we broke up. I'm dating Mikey now. He's a cop," she smiled, knowing her brother would be proud.

"Wow. Dad would be proud of you, dating a cop," Don smiled.

For the first time Sam's smile faltered at the mention of their father. Don noticed and sighed.

"Sam, you really need to for..."

"Don't!" Sam said abruptly. "Just don't. I don't need you or anybody else telling me how to live my life. And you're a fine one to talk anyway."

"Sam," warned Don.

"You're a cop for God's sake Don, couldn't you just..."

"Sam!" Don shouted. He stood up and walked away to the kitchen.

Sam sighed. She never understood why Don always got like this. Then again she was just the same herself. The Flack bloodline. She stood up and followed him to the kitchen. He was at the stove, stirring something in a pan.

"Hey I'm sorry okay?" she muttered, leaning against the frame.

"Hmmm."

"You wanna talk?"

"Nope."

"You want me to leave?"

"Nope."

"What do you want?"

Flack let go of the spoon and walked over to her, hugging her tightly. He took Sam by surprise and it was a second before she hugged him back.

"Hey, you okay?"

"I love you, Sam," he responded, hugging her tighter.

"I love you too, Don. Now don't get all sentimental on me," she said, smiling as she managed to push him off her so she could see his face. "Come on, let's go sit down."

"Sorry," he mumbled embarrassedly as they went back into the lounge and sat on the couch. "I just feel like we don't see enough of each other."

"Well then let's fix that," she laughed. "Although it might be hard now you're moving in here. I guess you'll be wanting to spend more time with your boyfriend than your annoying little sis?"

Don smirked and then took a breath. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yep?"

"I got something to tell you."

"Okay..."

"It's about Mac...he's not my boyfriend."

Sam frowned. "I don't understand? Why's your stuff here if he's not you boyfriend anymore?"

Don smiled shyly. "He's my fiancé, Sam. We're getting married." He held his left hand up to show the plain silver band that he had round his ring finger.

Sam's eyes widened in shock and for a moment she froze. Then she suddenly lurched forward and jumped on Don, smothering him with a huge hug.

"Oh my God, Don. That's amazing news!" she pretty much screamed.

"Sam, gerroff!" Don laughed as he pushed his sister off.

"Grams will be even more annoyed now that she hasn't met him before you got engaged!" Sam joked.

"You think she'll be okay?"

"She'll love him. And she'll love that you love him," Sam replied.

"Thanks, Sam," Don smiled.

"No problem," she laughed.

Don grinned even wider at his little sister. God, he loved her. She was almost his only bit of family left and he didn't want to lose her, ever. She was flaky, yes, and she had been in trouble with the law a few times. But in recent years they had grown close and she was also the only person whom he'd told of his heartbreak at the time it happened. He remembered that dreadful day she'd found him drinking his way through a bar and he hadn't been able to hold it in any longer.

_Don jumped as he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to see his little sister, Samantha, standing there. She smiled sadly at him and Don knew. He knew she knew._

_"Well this is a bit of a turn around," she smiled and slid onto the stool next to him. "So come on, big bro, why don't you tell me all about it?"_

_Don looked miserably down at his beer and played with the label on the bottle._

_"Nothing to tell, Sammie."_

_"So I've come all the way downtown to get you from this miserable bar for no good reason?"_

_"I'm doing just fine by myself," Don growled. "Don't need you coming after me."_

_"Well it sure won't be happening again, Donny. You're normally the one coming after me."_

_"How'd you even find me?" Don asked evasively._

_"Because your friend Messer rang me and said he was worried about you. That you'd had a bit of a tough day at work and then disappeared? I knew you'd be here, Donny, you always come back here."_

_"Son of a bitch," Don moaned._

_"He sounded worried about you, Don. And so am I," she said sadly. "He said you've not been the same since you came back to work after the explosion and it's obvious something's wrong. You changed back at the hospital. I don't know what happened, one day you seemed quite yourself, despite the obvious, but cheerful. And then I hear how you're up and down all the time, evasive, keeping friends at a distance. What's going on?"_

_"I am cheerful," Don replied._

_"Yeah, maybe sometimes. And then other times he said you seem so sad, it's painful to watch."_

_"Maybe I'm just dealing with some stuff and I'll be over it soon."_

_"It's been months now, Donny. Look, you've always been there for me, your screw up sister, and you've never once judged me. You always find me, stay with me when I'm feeling scared and lost. I want to do the same for you," she said and gently placed a hand on his arm._

_"You'll hate me," Don cried miserably. "Everyone will."_

_Sam was taken aback at his sudden outburst of emotion. Then she stood and pulled him into a hug, rocking him gently as he cried._

_"It'll be okay, Donny. I promise. Let me help you. Let your family help you."_

_Don pulled away from her and wiped his face. Sam sat back on her stool and he watched her watching him. He knew what she was waiting for and yet he couldn't bring himself to say the words._

_"It's hard," he mumbled._

_"Whatever it is, I won't judge you, Donny," she said kindly._

_Don looked at her again and then stared back at his beer bottle._

_"You remember Mac? He visited me a couple of times at the hospital?"_

_"More than a couple as I remember," she nodded. "He kinda disappeared though..." she frowned._

_"Mac and I have been sleeping together," he said in a rush. He felt his cheeks burning and waited for her to shout, to tell him how disgusting he was but it never came. He reluctantly looked up at her and saw she was still watching him, concern etched all over her face._

_"I know, Don. I guessed when you were in the hospital. It was pretty obvious. I think Dad and Mom guessed too."_

_"Oh, God!" Don cried miserably._

_"Don, they don't care. They love you anyway. You're their son, idiot!"_

_Don blinked up at his sister with tears in his eyes._

_"So what happened? Why'd he just disappear?" she asked sympathetically._

_Don sighed and took a long drink from his bottle. "We started dating about a year and a half ago, went out for a drink after this case with a tiger. I'd liked him for a long time before that though. It was Lindsay's first case, you remember her right?"_

_"Yeah I remember her," she nodded. There was no surprise that it had been such a long time ago._

_"Yeah, well he broke up with me after the accident, while I was in the hospital, said he could do it any longer..."_

_Sam gave an audible gasp of shock. "Utter bastard!...God if I ever see that son of a bitch again..."_

_"Sam, don't!" Don said worriedly. "Please don't say anything..." _

_Sam sighed. "Fine. But that guy is so dead meat if I see him again."_

_Don briefly exhaled a small laugh as he thought of his sister trying to beat up the ex-Marine._

_"So what happened to make you come here tonight and sit alone drinking your way through the entire bar?" she asked._

_Don almost smiled._

_"He started dating one of the M.E.'s called Peyton after we split," he said bitterly._

_"Seriously? God, I could right rip him limb from limb," she growled and Don recognised something of himself in his younger sister._

_"We got back together though a month or so after I went back to work. He promised me he was gonna leave Peyton. That he regretted splitting up with me. That he loved me."_

_Sam placed an arm round her brother for support._

_"He lied of course. When he came into the precinct today and arrested Dean...I knew then that he didn't love me. Didn't care about me. Work will always be more important to him than me. His reputation will always be more important than me. I'm so stupid. I should have seen it sooner. Peyton's a doctor, she clever...pretty...a woman...everything Mac wants. Me...I'm nothing. A nobody."_

_"I'm sure he doesn't think that, Donny. And you're not a nobody..."_

_"He used me, Sam! I can't believe I fell for it again. I'm so stupid!"_

_Sam growled in the back of her throat. "God, I could just..."_

_"Please don't!" Don once more pleaded._

_Sam felt her heart breaking for the big brother she cared so deeply for._

_"I just want you to be happy, Donny."_

_Don laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh._

_"You won't tell Messer will you?" he suddenly asked. "I don't want him to know I'm..."_

_"Of course I won't. But he's worried about you, Donny."_

_"I'll be okay."_

_Sam stood again and hugged her brother to her. He cried thick tears into her shoulder and she heard him moan, "I love him, Sammie. I love him. It hurts."_

That had been a whole lifetime ago, or so it seemed to Don anyway. He'd been with Jess since then and then back with Mac. Life was strange in the way it moved and changed. He'd forgiven Mac a long time ago for what he'd done, for how much he'd hurt him. Mac knew, of course, Mac knew before he'd even told him. But they'd put aside their differences, their argument, and built a new relationship from the ground up, only this time stronger, invincible, unbreakable.

_Flack was tidying up his stuff in the bullpen ready to leave for the evening. He was pissed that they hadn't been able to catch suspect X. Pissed that the case was now unsolved. He was damn sure that they were gonna catch the bitch next time she surfaced. Mac had been even more pissed than he, himself had been, not that he could blame him. The older detective had got really into the case what with that weird online gaming. And if they'd only arrived five minutes sooner...well, it was no use thinking like that. _

_Flack looked up just as Detective Angell passed his desk and she gave him a warm smile. He returned with one of his goofy grins and suddenly felt his cheeks start to heat up. He immediately looked back down and hoped to God she hadn't noticed. She was very pretty._

_"Flack."_

_Flack looked back up to see Mac standing by his desk._

_"Hey Mac. Something I can help you with?"_

_"You've finished for the day?"_

_Flack frowned slightly. "As long as I get outta here in the next minute then yeah. Otherwise I'll be roped in to staying another few hours at least."_

_Mac laughed a little. _

_"I wondered if you'd like to catch a quick drink before you head home?"_

_Flack's frown deepened. He didn't like where this was going. Peyton dumps Mac and then straight away he comes sniffing round him again. "Look, Mac..."_

_"Don't worry," Mac stated. "I literally mean one drink only. That's it."_

_Flack picked up his jacket from his chair and pulled it on. "Twenty minutes, Mac," he said seriously._

_"Fine."_

_The two men walked out of the precinct and Flack followed Mac to a bar that was near enough to get to quickly, but far enough away for it not to be just another cop hang out._

_"You're buying," Flack stated as they entered and he walked over to a table and grabbed himself a seat._

_Mac smiled and ordered two beers before joining him._

_"So what's up?" Flack asked as took a long drink from his pint. It was good._

_"I just wanted to thank you."_

_"What?" Flack asked._

_"I know it must be hard for you to be around me at the moment. Hard for you to listen to me talking about Peyton today. But I appreciated it."_

_Flack smirked a little. "Yeah, it is hard. But I'll get over it."_

_"Despite everything that's happened between us you still know me better than anyone, Don. And I really needed someone to talk to and you were there. Just like you were the other week when I told you about my stalker."_

_Flack grimaced. "You need to get some protection, Mac."_

_Mac ignored his worries and looked away._

_"You know, watching you walk away with Peyton was the hardest and most humiliating thing that's ever happened to me," Flack said after a while._

_Mac looked at him sadly._

_"You were mine first, Mac. I would have done anything for you. And you chose her over me."_

_"I'm not expecting your forgiveness, Don. That's not why I invited you here. I just need to know we're going to be okay, professionally."_

_"You have my forgiveness, Mac. Last year...last year has just been a total mess, something that I'd rather forget. The only good thing about seeing you go off with her was that it made me realise I'll never have you. Not truly."_

_"Don, I..."_

_"No, Mac. It's okay. I'm moving on. You're right, we need to be able to work together, to rely on and trust each other. And I want to be friends, I do."_

_"I want that too, Don. I truly am sorry I ever hurt you."_

_Flack exhaled a laugh. "Let's say we move on then?"_

_"Here's to that," Mac smiled as he raised his glass._

_Flack clinked his own against it and they both drank._

"So have you set a date then? And where?" asked Sam excitedly.

"City Hall in just under three months. Reception will be in McTiers and Danny is best man. We're only inviting a few close friends and already organised the catering. We don't really want any flowers or that crap although I think Jo said she'd help decorate the place up, she's still disgruntled we're having it in a bar and she's also buying us a cake as a present."

"What about music?" asked Sam eagerly.

"One of the guys at the precinct is an Elvis impersonator in his free time so he's going to perform and Mac might play a bit too."

"Sounds good if you need a DJ, Mikey does a bit too" she replied.

"That sounds great, sis," Don grinned.

"I'll get you his number," she smiled, going to her bag.

Don felt his phone vibrate and glanced at it, seeing a message from Mac.

"Hey, Mac's on his way back. Case closed."

"Great," grinned Sam and hurried back with the number.

"Thanks Sammie. You're the best," Don murmured.

"Aw, you big softie!" she laughed and hugged him.

* * *

A/N – Flashbacks in order are 3x08 and 4x05

I'd also like to say the reason there are no D/L flashbacks is cos their relationship is canon so we know what happened. I'm only doing flashbacks of M/F as I made it up.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N – Big thanks to reviewers, if you're enjoying please continue reviewing, they make me smile and it's always a bit daunting writing something that's not quite so mainstream.

This chapter is for Kates89 for checking bits over for me and without whom I'm not sure if I would have had the courage to post this story. This is my fave chapter by far.

Also, if anyone is concerned that Mac isn't coming across too well in flashbacks we'll get to hear his side of the story later on. Let us remember, 'The course of true love never did run smooth,' – A Midsummer Night's Dream, William Shakespeare. Just think about everything D/L went through before they finally got together.

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Six**

Don leant back against the sofa, legs up on the coffee table as he drank deeply from the bottle of beer he held in his hand. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back, his t-shirt and shorts damp with it, hair plastered to his forehead. The heat from the day radiated through the open window doing nothing for his condition but he didn't care. He was happy. Today he had finally moved the rest of his stuff into Mac's apartment and the sale of his old place would be going through next week. Everything was finalised. He and Mac were now officially living together. It may have taken two months to orchestrate due to the fact he and Mac rarely had a day off together, but it was finally done, and he'd even managed to rope Messer into helping out.

"Oh my God!" Danny moaned as he turned over onto his back, where he lay on the floor. "Flack, I am never doing this again."

"Suck it up, Messer. I helped you paint your nursery for the second time only last week. I really thought that was a husband-wife type of thing."

"Yeah but we needed a girl's opinion and Linds thought to give you a ring..."

Don gave an audible growl in the back of his throat.

"Are you two still squabbling?" Mac asked in amusement as he came in from the kitchen and collapsed onto the sofa next to Don.

"Nah, Messer here was just moaning like a bitch," Don chuckled.

"Fuck you, Flack!" Danny said pathetically from the floor.

"Well you did have a lot of stuff to pack. It's beyond me why you didn't get it organised earlier and then we wouldn't have had to pack and move all in one day," Mac commented.

"You said it yourself, I have a lot of stuff!" Don exclaimed. "And I did sort of organise it."

"No you didn't. You couldn't be bothered," Mac said knowingly. "If it was up to you your stuff probably never would have made it here."

"Well you got me, what else you need?" Don said.

"Hmmm...well, I quite like your TV and the kettle isn't bad either..." Mac teased, smiling.

Danny gave a snort of laughter while Don looked rather grumpy.

"Another beer, Danny?" Mac asked, laughing at Don.

"Yeah but I'll get it myself, you've only just sat down and lazy here won't be getting off his ass to play host."

"Fuck you, Messer!"

Danny grinned as he got up and headed into Mac's kitchen. Mac took the opportunity to lean over and kiss Don square on the lips.

"Mmph..." Don mumbled in surprise.

"Sorry, I'm excited," Mac said, blushing slightly.

Mac rarely showed such emotion and Don was touched by it.

"I'm excited too," he said quietly. "But that doesn't mean I want to jump on a disgusting sweaty heap and try to suffocate him."

"I'd jump on you anytime," Mac whispered into his ear just as Danny came back into the room. Don blushed a bright red and had to look away. Danny paused near the couch.

"Interrupting a little something-something am I?" he grinned.

"Not at all," Mac stated blankly.

Don on the other hand still looked embarrassed and rather red.

"So what's Lindsay up to today?" Mac asked Danny conversationally.

"She's going to see a show with Luce after work, can't remember what it is, some all singing-all dancing extravaganza," Danny replied as he sat down on the floor again.

"What? And you didn't want to join them?" Don joked.

"Nah, but if it's good I'll get you a ticket for your birthday!" Danny retorted.

"Are you two ever going to grow up?" Mac said wearily.

"No!" chorused the two men, who then exchange a grin.

"But that's why you love us," Don added.

"Mmm," Mac hummed in agreement and he leant over and kissed Don again, lingering slightly longer this time.

"Oh get a room," Danny moaned as he swigged his beer.

"Got one," Don smiled. "Got a whole apartment full of them."

Danny rolled his eyes and stood up. "Here Flack, you finish this," he said, giving his bottle of beer to the younger man. "Think I'm gonna head off."

"You don't want to stay for pizza?" Mac asked.

"Nah. Think I'll give you guys a little privacy," Danny smiled.

"Hey, thanks for helping, Mess," Don nodded.

"Sure thing, Flack. Catch ya later."

Danny disappeared from the room and a moment later the two men heard the front door open and then close.

"Hmmm..." Mac hummed.

"Hmmm?" Don questioned.

"What to do now he's gone..." Mac smiled.

Don's face broke out into his usual wonky grin.

* * *

Danny smiled as he heard the door open and the sound of two rather excited voices nattering away to one another. The girls were back.

"Where's my Lucylou?" he shouted and a moment later there was a patter of feet and the little girl ran into the lounge and jumped on him.

"Oof!" Danny moaned as he was left breathless. "Hello, lump, how was it?"

"Daddy, I saw chickies and duckies!"

Danny frowned in confusion. "What, they had birds on the stage?"

Lindsay appeared in the doorway laughing to herself. "They were people dressed up."

"Oh," Danny nodded, feeling stupid. "Did you get Daddy anything?"

"Yes!" Lucy shouted as she jumped off her Daddy and ran over to her Mommy grabbing an item in a plastic bag and running back over to Danny.

"Oof!" Danny groaned for a second time as he was jumped on again. "God, you're a lump."

"I not a lumpy, Daddy!" Lucy said in offense, hiding whatever she was holding behind her back.

"Lucylumpy, what have you bought Daddy?" Danny asked, pretending to try and see behind her back.

"Not telling!" Lucy grinned.

"Well then the tickle monster might come out..." Danny teased.

"No! Daddy! No!" Lucy said worriedly and started to climb down off her father's lap but Danny held on to her.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle..." Danny laughed as he started to tickle her.

The sounds of their daughter's laughter filled the apartment and even reached Lindsay who was in the bedroom getting changed.

"Daddy, Daddy stop it. I tell you. Promise!"

"Okay then," Danny said seriously and stopped tickling her.

She shyly held out the bag to him and he took it from her. She watched him carefully as he took the item out of the plastic bag. It was a figurine, about six inches tall, of a vibrantly coloured duck dressed in a labcoat with spectacles on its beak.

"It's you, Daddy!" Lucy shouted in glee as he looked at it.

"Gee, thanks so much, Luce," Danny grinned.

"You like it, Daddy? It's a duckie!" she shouted excitedly.

"I love it," Danny smiled as he pulled his daughter against his chest and hugged her, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

"It's cos you're scientist like Quackpot."

"Quackpot?" Danny frowned as he looked over his daughter's shoulder at the duck.

"Yes, silly Daddy. Quackpot duckie."

"Oh right," Danny pretended to get it, even though he really had no idea who Quackpot duckie was.

"It's the name of the character," Lindsay laughed as she returned to the lounge and sat down next to Danny.

"What is this show you went to see with all the singing and dancing birds?" Danny asked in amusement.

"Daddy it's Birdywordys silly!" Lucy giggled from his lap she was still resting against his chest, tired from her trip.

"Birdywordys?" Danny asked in confusion.

"Birdywordys is a kid's show that helps children learn words, Danny. Lucy watches it on TV all the time," Lindsay laughed.

"Yeah, Lucy, not me!" Danny defended.

"It has ducks and chickens and they live in a town and have jobs just like humans," Lindsay explained.

"So Quackpot is the resident CSI?" Danny grinned.

Lindsay rolled her eyes and hit his arm playfully. "No. He's the doctor!"

"Oh," Danny chuckled. "I did wonder about the stethoscope," he added, glancing over the figurine.

"He's scientist like you, Daddy. And he has glasses."

"Yeah, Luce. He's just like me, thank you," Danny smiled, kissing her again.

"That's alright, Daddy," Lucy yawned.

"Bedtime I think, trouble," Danny grinned as he stood up with Lucy in his arms and took her to her bedroom.

Lucy was very sleepy and it didn't take Danny long to get her changed and put into bed. She was so tired she didn't even ask for a story which was most unusual. After kissing her goodnight Danny padded back to the lounge where Lindsay was watching a recording of her soap opera set in the country. Danny hated it.

"Anything else on?" he groaned as he sat down.

"Not for the next half hour," Lindsay replied, her eyes never leaving the screen.

"Urgh!" Danny moaned as he collapsed his head onto her shoulder dramatically.

Lindsay ignored him.

Danny's eyes flitted to the baby bump she was sporting that peeked out from between her pyjamas. She was six months gone now and her bump was getting quite large and Danny had enjoyed feeling his little boy kick from time to time. He smiled to himself and placed his hands on her stomach hoping to feel him again.

"Hey baby boy, you gonna kick for Daddy?" he murmured.

"Gently," Lindsay added as she continued to watch her show.

Danny gave her a smile before looking back down at the bump.

"We're all excited to see you, including your big sister," he whispered.

He stroked his hands across his wife's belly.

"Daddy's the most excited though. He can't wait to meet you and teach you how to play baseball!"

"Not for a while," Lindsay added, glancing at her husband.

"Daddy was nearly a professional you know? Maybe you will be, I'll teach you how to pitch."

He placed an ear on Lindsay's bump and listened for any noises.

"Daddy loves you already, Fausto."

"No way," Lindsay murmured.

"Louie?"

"Nope, sorry."

"Alfonz?"

"Nuh huh."

"Clemenza?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Danny Junior?"

Lindsay burst out laughing. "What's up with all the terrible names?"

"They're all people in my family," Danny scowled. "You should know that by now."

"Danny, you have so many distant family members not even an elephant could remember them all," Lindsay smiled. "Anyway, I like Sheldon."

"What?" Danny yelped, his face serious and eyes widening as he sat up and stared at her.

"Well I get to chose right? Cos you chose Lucy's name."

"Well, yeah...but Sheldon? Like Sheldon Hawkes?"

Lindsay's face suddenly broke and Danny realised she was just joking with him.

"That wasn't funny, Montana!" he growled.

"Yes it was!" she giggled, as she leant over and kissed him.

Danny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

"What about your show?" he murmured between kisses.

"It'll still be there in the morning" she replied and then kissed him again.

* * *

"Hey Roomie!" Don grinned as Mac stepped into the bedroom, hair still damp from the shower.

Mac shook his head in exasperation and smirked at the younger man. Don was sitting in bed with a book on his lap.

"What are you reading?" Mac asked as he tidied up Don's clothes from the floor.

"Hamlet," Don replied, raising the book so Mac could see.

"Hamlet?" Mac repeated in astonishment.

Don frowned. "Yep. Got a problem with that?"

Mac chuckled. "Not at all. You just continually surprise me. I'd never have put you down as one to read Shakespeare, Don."

"I like all the classics, not just Shakespeare. I read David Copperfield a few weeks ago," Don replied, flicking through the pages. "Oh, you won't tell Messer that, will you?" he added as an afterthought.

"I promise," Mac laughed, crossing his chest. "So is Hamlet your favourite Shakespeare play?" he asked as he climbed into bed.

"Well I can't say I've exactly read all of them, Mac, but so far yes. I like the ghost of King Hamlet; it's mysterious. Is he real or not, is Hamlet's madness real or not?"

"That is the question," Mac joked.

Flack rolled his eyes at him. "Maybe I'll make it my lifetime's achievement; to read the complete works."

"Good luck!" Mac snorted with laughter.

"Hey!" Don moaned in offense. He pushed Mac playfully and laughed when the older man nearly fell out of bed.

"Hmph. We'll have to buy a bigger bed I think," Mac grumped.

"Why? Cos I'm growing outwards?" Don muttered putting his book on his bedside cabinet and turning off his light.

"You're never going to let that lie, are you?" Mac said wearily.

"Nope," grinned Don as he lay down and fidgeted with the covers around him.

Mac flicked off his bedside light and lay down too. He felt Don move closer and put an arm round him, the younger man's hair tickling his chin.

"Can I ask you something?" Don asked after a while.

"Sure," Mac replied.

"When did you first realise you were in love with me?" Don asked. "I mean, I never knew, you never told me."

Mac blinked and stared up into the dark room. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Don's face lit with moonlight, blue eyes staring solemnly at him. Of course Mac knew the answer without thinking. He could pinpoint the exact moment he'd fallen in love with the young detective. It had been the same day Don himself had finally revealed he was in love with him. And yet, it was a painful memory.

"It started with an argument," he murmured.

"An argument?" Don repeated questioningly.

"Mmhm," Mac hummed in confirmation.

"Tell me," Don insisted.

_Mac noticed Flack was sat on the floor, waiting for him outside his apartment as he stormed round the corner, anger biting at him._

_"What are you doing here, Flack?" he asked angrily._

_"Come to talk some sense into you," Flack stated as he stood up, stretching out his aching limbs. He'd obviously been there a very long time._

_"What do you mean?" Mac snarled._

_"I mean DJ Pratt. You're getting too obsessed with him," Flack said severely._

_"I don't know what you're talking about!" Mac tried to deny._

_"Don't try that with me, Mac, cos it won't work. Stella told me they'd found new evidence... that he's back on the circuit. She said you said you'd look into it when she told you. That was weeks ago."_

_"So what?!" snapped Mac._

_"So you've been distant and grumpy for weeks. Everything I seem to do is wrong and I'm getting sick of it. Then I find out you've been investigating DJ Pratt in secret the entire time and everything suddenly falls into place."_

_"It hasn't been that long," Mac dismissed as he searched his pockets for his key._

_"Since the day we had that missing organ case. I remember it well cos I got kicked in the face...twice just in case you forgot."_

_Mac didn't reply but carried on searching for his key._

_"So what, you're keeping secrets from me now?" Flack asked._

_"Look, Flack, this has nothing to do with you, stay out of it," Mac growled._

_"Of course it has to do with me. Aiden's my friend, Mac, and I know you feel you let her down which is why you're going crazy trying to get Pratt now!" Flack shouted, losing his temper._

_"You don't understand," Mac spat as he finally found his key and pushed past Flack to slot it into the lock._

_Flack stared at him open-mouthed. Clearly unable to believe what Mac had just said to him._

_"Aiden is one of best friends and she lost her job because of this guy. Of course I fucking understand," Flack said in disbelief and then he turned and stormed down the hallway, away from Mac._

_Mac finally got his door open and slammed it shut behind him._

"I remember that argument," Don murmured quietly.

"I'm sorry, Don," Mac said, instinctively pulling him closer.

"It wasn't your fault, Mac. We were all angry about Pratt."

"Aiden's death is one of the things I regret most in my life, it always has been," Mac said quietly. "We should have been able to prevent it."

_Hawkes had been the first to leave, closely followed by Stella and Lindsay who were becoming friendlier day by day. It was another few hours before Danny eventually stumbled up from his seat and muttered goodbye before going out the door. That left just Mac and Flack sitting round the table in the bar, drinking to Aiden's memory. There was an empty seat between them and Mac had hoped Flack might've moved up after Stella left but he'd remained where he was. Despite the sad occasion he looked good; he'd removed his tie and undone the top button of his shirt. Mac could see his white tee underneath which only teased him as Mac knew what lay behind it._

_"I think I'm gonna check he gets home okay, he was pretty wasted," Flack said gruffly as stood and picked up his jacket that hung over the back of his chair._

_It was now or never._

_"Stay," Mac said quietly. He wasn't going to beg. That wasn't his style, but he hoped beyond hope that Flack would obey his wish._

_"Why?" Flack sighed._

_"Because I asked?" Mac said hopefully._

_Flack sighed again and sat back down, although he didn't remove his jacket._

_"What do you want, Mac?" he asked tiredly._

_"I want to apologise. I'm sorry about what I said the other night...that you didn't understand. Of course I know Aiden was one of your best friends and that if anyone should understand it'd be you."_

_He once more looked hopefully at Flack, wondering if the young man was going to forgive him._

_"It wasn't just that," Flack finally said, breaking the silence. "You shut me out, Mac. You pushed me away and kept stuff from me that was bothering you. That was hurting you. I could have helped. I wanted to help and it hurt that you wouldn't let me. I mean, isn't that what we were doing together? Leaning on each other, supporting each other?"_

_Mac stared silently at Flack. "No," he said. "No it wasn't. It was more than that."_

_Flack sighed and Mac watched as he fiddled with his hands nervously._

_"I'm sorry, Don," he said quietly._

_Flack looked up at him solemnly._

_"I know you are. I'm sorry for storming off."_

_"You don't need to apologise. It was me who was in the wrong. I should never have pushed you away. I need you, Don. You know I do...the past week has been...well, it's been..."_

_"I know," Flack agreed, nodding his head. "It's been hard."_

_"It's been lonely," Mac said._

_"You wanna get out of here?" Flack asked and Mac nodded._

_The two men stood and left the bar together. They walked side by side down the street and Mac looked for a free cab that could take them home, since they'd both been drinking._

_"Hey, Mac?" Flack said._

_"Hmmm?" Mac hummed as he looked up and down the street._

_"I love you."_

_Mac froze and his eyes widened. He turned slowly and gazed into the frightened blue eyes of Don Flack._

_"Don..." he murmured._

_"It's alright, Mac. I know you're not there yet. I was expecting it to take you longer, cos of Claire...it's more difficult for you. But I do. I love you. And I want you to know that."_

_"How long for?" Mac asked._

_Flack thought for a moment. "Since that 'water gun wars' case. We spent a lot of time together that day and I just remember walking into your office and you already knew what I was gonna say and it made me chuckle. Then we had pizza in your office together with Stell and Hawkes while Messer and Lindsay ate the bugs and I just felt really happy and relaxed...content. I knew I loved you..."_

_Mac softly brushed his hand against Flack's. They were still outside the cop bar at that point and Mac knew he couldn't embrace Flack the way he wanted to._

_"Let's go home," Mac smiled._

_They hitched a cab home and Mac remembered that night being one of the best of his life. Flack was on fire; obviously the confession of his heart had done wonders for him, either that or the loneliness of the past week, maybe both. Either way Mac remembered it as the best sex of his life at the time and afterwards as he lay in bed, watching Flack sleep he thought about the younger man's words. Flack loved him. Flack had fallen in love with him. Mac pondered that. Did he love Flack back? He'd loved Claire so much; he'd never thought he'd ever feel that same way again. After she died he'd thought that was it for him, that life was over until that grey day in September, almost four years ago when an enthusiastic, gangly youth had entered his office. He looked down at Flack, his lips slightly parted in sleep, quiet wheezing noises coming from them. He was really very beautiful and Mac knew he was lucky to have him, to have found love for a second time in his life. For it was love, he realised that now. He loved Don with all his heart and he couldn't wait to tell him that. He smiled to himself as he snuggled down under the covers and moved closer to Don, throwing an arm over him and pulling him closer. Don whimpered in his sleep and Mac chuckled. Yes, he loved Don. He'd tell him in the morning._

_Unfortunately fate had other plans for them._

_Mac was awakened to the sound of Don's sleepy voice mumbling into his phone and then he shut it off, sighing loudly. He turned back to Mac as he heard the bedsheets rustle._

_"Did I wake you?"_

_"No," Mac lied._

_Don smiled at him and then eyed the alarm clock. "Should be illegal to get up this early on a Sunday," he moaned._

_"It's 9am, Don," Mac frowned at him._

_Don grinned. "Yeah, but it's a Sunday!"_

_"Aren't you a Catholic?" Mac asked. "Wouldn't you have had church on a Sunday?"_

_Don laughed loudly at Mac for some time before he managed to speak. Mac looked at him in amusement. "Mac, does it look like I'm a Catholic to you? Don asked sarcastically._

_Mac chuckled as he realised that Don was right. And if he'd needed a clue to figure that one out he only need look at the fact that Don was in bed with another man and that they were both stark naked. That and the fact that Don had spent last night having his brains fucked out by him. Suddenly Mac's phone buzzed and he grabbed at it and answered. Don disappeared off in the direction of the bathroom and returned when Mac had finished his call._

_"What you got?" asked Don as he pulled on his pants._

_"DB at a brokerage firm. First responders got an ID off him as Darwin Judge?"_

_"Snap," Don replied and raised his eyebrows at Mac._

_"Guess I'll see you there then," Mac replied as he stood and stretched out his back._

_"See you later," Don called as he finished dressing while Mac headed into the shower, already planning on how to tell Don he loved him that evening, completely unaware that that would never happen._

"Don?" Mac murmured worriedly as he finished his tale.

"All that time ago?" Don whispered.

"Does that surprise you?" Mac asked.

"I had no idea." Don moved slowly under the covers until he was leant up on one arm, looking into Mac's face. "You were planning to tell me?"

Mac nodded.

"Do you think if... if I hadn't almost died that day things would have been different?" the younger man asked sincerely.

Mac stroked a hand softly down Don's face. "Don't think about that, Don. You can't change the past. Everything happens for a reason."

Don nodded and then leant his head into Mac's hand and kissed it. "I love you."

Mac looked at him for a moment in silence. "I love you too. Always."

* * *

A/N - Flashbacks are from 2x22, and end of 2x23 leading to the start of 2x24.

Also, Birdywordys - completely my own invention, if there does happen to be a similar show I know not of it and no copyright intended.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N - Hope you are all still liking this story, if you are please keep reviewing, it really makes me happy and I appreciate them all so much and the time it takes for you to write one.

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Seven**

The day had begun like no other; Mac had woken up to the sound of the sleeping man next to him snoring softly. He smiled, watched him for a few moments and then crept from the bed in silence, making his way to the bathroom to have a quick wash. Then he'd donned his jogging clothes and gone out for his morning run. It was before six and the streets were still relatively empty bar the few late night-early morning revellers making their way back to their homes. The air felt frosty damp and dew hung on the blades of grass in the small park near his building. He'd run for an hour, slightly longer than usual but feeling in a relatively energised mood that morning. Afterwards he'd returned to the apartment, jumped into the shower and had stood under the hot prickles of water, enjoying the heat and steam in contrast to his run. At precisely 7.05am, the same time as every other morning when they were both on a day shift, he heard the door open and feet shuffling in across the floor until the toilet seat creaked as someone sat on it. Mac finished rinsing off his hair and then turned off the water. As he swung his arm around the curtain to grab his towel he felt it placed into his hand and smiled as he hastened to wrap it round his waist.

Don.

"Morning," Mac murmured as he drew back the curtain and stepped out of the tub.

"Morning," yawned Don, still blinking the last remnants of sleep from his eyes.

"Sleep well?" Mac asked as he approached the younger man.

"Like a baby," Don grinned, tilting his head up towards Mac.

"Like usual," Mac said knowingly and then gave him a quick kiss before leaving the bathroom.

Moments later he heard the shower turn on and then the sound of soft, slightly out of tune singing filled the apartment. Mac laughed loudly as he dressed and then padded to the kitchen to make breakfast. So far things were going so well for them. They'd booked their slot at City Hall for the marriage. McTiers, still Don's preferred venue of choice, would be closing to the public for their wedding reception and invitations had just been sent out. Naturally the whole team was invited, along with Reed and Don's sister and grandma. A few of Mac's pals from the Marines and fire service were coming, along with some of the guys from Don's precinct, the YMCA and his sports club. That was pretty much it, less than thirty people and a small enough affair to keep Sinclair happy. It was perfect.

"I smell burning," Don sung as he entered the kitchen, fully clothed, and sat at the counter.

"Maybe next time you want to cook breakfast then?" Mac asked as he turned around, one eyebrow raised.

"You know I can't cook," Don moaned, smiling.

"On the contrary," Mac murmured as he started dishing out the food.

"So maybe I can," Don shrugged. "But that's for special occasions...or days off."

"Lucky me," Mac smirked as he poured out the coffee. He suddenly noticed what Don was wearing. The blue sweater he'd worn the day he'd been kidnapped by Zane Kalim a few months ago. Mac frowned to himself as he looked at it. It wasn't that he was superstitious; it was just that the item now reminded him of something bad that had happened, something that still played on his mind, something that almost made his heart stop when he considered how close he'd been to losing Don that day. Something he never wanted to be reminded of again. He'd have to ask the detective to chuck it out.

"Don..." he started.

"Oh, I'm gonna be late tonight. Hawkes, Mess, Adam and me are going out for a drink after work. That's cool right?" Don asked, interrupting Mac.

Mac blinked and stared up at the younger man. "Oh, yes. That's fine. I need to stay on late and get some work done anyway."

"Surprise, surprise," Don laughed as he gulped down his coffee. Mac wondered how he did it, there was still steam rising from it and it was surely burning his throat.

"Well gotta get going. Crime doesn't solve itself as you and I both know," laughed Don, standing up.

"What about breakfast?" Mac asked with a frown.

"What breakfast?" Don grinned as he kissed Mac and then left in the direction of the front door.

Mac glanced down at the plates. One full of food; his own, the other empty. Mac chuckled.

* * *

Flack knew Danny was right behind him so he wasn't scared. Flack knew Danny always had his back so he wasn't scared. Flack knew that Danny had never let him down so he wasn't scared. In fact Danny was the one person whom he never felt scared with, no matter what he faced, guns, knives, crazies or anything else. He was safe with Danny, even more so than with Mac who had hurt him before in the past, albeit that was on a personal level rather than to do with the job, but still...Danny was the one human being, he trusted above all others.

The moment the suspect had run Flack didn't hesitate. He charged after the crack addict, powering through the crowds knowing Danny was right there behind him. He heard the CSI calling in their position in case any officers should be nearby and might be able to help catch this guy. For a man who looked so drugged up on coke he ran quickly and Flack had to put in full power behind his speed just to keep up. He'd known this guy was going to run from the moment they'd turned up to question him. He'd been too nervy, whether it was because he knew something, or the fact he was on drugs, or simply because they were cops Flack wasn't sure but he'd got that feeling. He'd tried to inch round the suspect to cut off his option of running but the man had been quick and had taken both he and Danny by surprise. Flack saw the suspect disappear around the corner into an alley and skidded to a halt, pulling out his gun and edging around the corner to see what awaited him. Ever so slowly he proceeded up the alley. It was eerily silent as though taking just a few steps into the shadow had numbed out the sound of the street. Flack breathed deeply to calm himself and continued on. A sudden noise from up ahead made him flinch but then he caught site of two of his fellow detectives from his precinct coming down the alley from the opposite end and breathed a sigh of relief. After a few moments they met in the middle and Flack put away his gun.

"Thought you said you were chasing someone, Flack," moaned Machado sarcastically.

"I was. I dunno where he could've got to," Flack said frowning.

"Where's your partner?" sneered Valenti.

Flack turned and was surprised to see that Danny was not behind him. In fact, there was no evidence that Danny Messer had been following him at all.

"I...errr...he must have gone round to head him off," Flack said as he logically thought about the possibilities of why Danny wasn't there.

The two detectives exchanged a look that Flack didn't like.

"What were you doing here anyway?" he asked them.

"In the area," shrugged Valenti.

"Yeah, heard your call come over the radio so thought we'd help out. Was that Messer you were with?" asked Machado.

"Yeah," Flack nodded.

"No wonder he ain't here. Never trust a CSI with a cop's job..." laughed Machado.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Flack sharply.

"Oh, nothing..." smirked Machado.

"Messer's a damn good cop and not only that he's good at the science too...makes him cleverer than any of us," Flack defended.

"You're so right," Valenti nodded sarcastically. "And that's why he's here now, doing his job, backing you up..."

Flack looked between the two detectives feeling exceptionally pissed off at both of them.

"Whatever," he muttered, shaking his head as he turned and walked away from them. He knew he better find out what had happened to Danny. He'd been sure he was right there behind him.

"Hey, Flack, hang on a second," shouted Machado.

Flack sighed irritably and then walked back to the two men. He was annoyed he'd lost his suspect, annoyed Danny seemed to have disappeared as well and to top that off these two idiots were now messing with him. Usually he got on well with these guys, had even had them round a few times and now they were pissing the hell out of him. They obviously had a problem with Danny and although Flack couldn't understand the science talk he spouted off, Danny was still his best friend and he loved him.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

Machado sighed and walked up to him, flinging an arm around his shoulders. Flack shrugged it off immediately and turned to face him.

"What do you want Machado? You got a problem with Messer, is that it?"

Machado laughed loudly and Flack heard Valenti laughing behind him too.

"No, Flack. We ain't got a problem with Messer. It's you we've got the problem with," he said coldly, his laughter dropping.

Flack was suddenly aware of the eerie silence that invaded the alley again and his throat felt dry, probably from all the running.

"What?" he coughed.

"I said, we got a problem with you."

Flack stared at him for a second, as though tempting him to make some kind of move. When he didn't Flack shook his head at the pathetic detective. All bravado but no balls.

"Get out of my face," Flack growled as he pushed past Machado. Immediately, however, he felt two large hands on his chest and he was suddenly flying backwards as Machado shoved him back.

"What the fuck?" Flack managed to gasp before his arms were grabbed from behind by Valenti and held in a tight grasp leaving his torso and face unprotected.

"Get the fuck off me," shouted Flack, struggling against him.

Machado smiled at him. "In a minute. We just need to clear up one small thing first."

"And what's that?" asked Flack.

"We want to know if it's true?"

"If what's true?" asked Flack even though he had a funny feeling he knew what.

"That you're a fucking queer?"

Flack was saved from answering by a noise behind him in the alley. He managed to get a look up it as Valenti swung round to look himself. Flack breathed a sigh of relief. Detectives Kincade and Wolf were coming down the alley towards them. Flack had known Wolf since he was five, he'd been a friend of his dad's and a frequent visitor to his childhood home and to family barbeques. Kincade was one of the newer detectives in homicide and was much younger than him. Flack had taken the kid under his wing and shown him the ropes. They'd fast become good friends and after Messer, Kincade was probably his next best friend on the force.

"Kincade, Wolf, get this nutjob off me," shouted Flack as they approached.

Wolf seemed to survey the scene as he approached. "Machado, Valenti, Flack," he nodded. "What's going on here?"

"Just asking Flack here if the rumours are true," Machado defended.

Flack stared at him disbelievingly. His arms were starting to ache painfully now from the way Valenti held on to them so tightly behind his back.

"Wolf, get this idiot off me," Flack moaned. When he heard no reply he turned to stare at the older man who was studying him curiously, held tilted to one side.

"Is it true, Flack?" he whispered. "Are you sleeping with Taylor?"

When Flack didn't answer he felt his arm being twisted painfully at his back and let out a small yelp.

"I suggest you answer, Flack. You don't want to make things difficult for yourself," Wolf said quietly.

Flack gulped nervously. He was suddenly aware that none of these men were on his side. He glanced at Kincade who had a rather sickened expression on his face, as though he'd just eaten something foul.

"So what if I am?" Flack snarled. He knew these men were trying to intimidate him and he wouldn't let it work. "It's none of your fucking business anyway."

The detectives surrounding him all exchanged a look.

"After all this time...a bloody homo in our midst," Machado said shaking his head. "You hid it well, Flack. I honestly gotta say I had no idea."

"I wasn't hiding anything," Flack spat back.

"And that thing with Angell...what was that? Just a cover up? Bet you felt awful when she bit it..." Machado laughed.

Flack turned purple with rage. "Don't you dare speak about Jess like that. I loved her; I wanted to marry her..."

"But instead you're marrying Mac Taylor," Wolf interrupted before Flack could finish.

Flack turned his head to stare at the older cop. "Yes I am," he said defiantly. "End of. So I suggest you all fuck off and leave me the hell alone."

"Or what?" Kincade asked, speaking for the first time. "You'll get your big, scary boyfriend to beat us up?"

All four cops sniggered with laughter and for the first time Flack felt afraid...and alone. Very, very alone.

"You disgust me," snarled Machado and spat on Flack's face.

Flack grimaced.

"You're a fucking disgrace," Kincade added as he shook his head.

"You're father would be so ashamed of you," Wolf stated with a gleam of satisfaction in his eye.

"My father couldn't have cared less if I liked men or women. He loved me."

"So he knew you were a fag?" asked Wolf.

"He knew everything about me and loved me anyway," Flack snarled.

"Somehow I doubt that very much," Wolf stated.

Flack could feel the spittle sliding down his face and it made him feel sick. In fact the whole situation made him want to vomit violently into the dumpster they were standing next to.

"I think it's time we showed you exactly what the department thinks of your new lifestyle choices," Wolf smiled.

"Yeah, as we're here representing it," Machado added.

Flack was aware that they were slowly closing in around him.

"Look, guys...please? We're friends. How long have we all known each other?" Flack tried.

"I'm getting tired of your fucking mouth," shouted Machado, clenching his fists.

Flack looked panic-stricken between the three men facing him. He focused on the one he was closet to.

"Kincade?" he pleaded.

"Shut the fuck up you dirty little queer," spat Kincade and Flack felt the younger man's fist connect with his jaw.

As his head whipped backwards another fist crashed into his cheek while another connected with his ribs. Fists pummelled into his chest, abdomen and face from all angles and he yelled in pain as he felt his nose crunch under one particularly hard punch. The pain in his sides told him his ribs were cracking from the force of the attack and then he was thrown to the ground. Feet connected with his sides, legs, face, all over his body. He heard laughter above him as someone stamped on his back. Then blackness. Nothing but blackness.

* * *

Mac leant back against the hard plastic seat, pain shooting through his spine from being hunched over for so long, and stared at the blank wall in front of him. Not even a noticeboard or a shelf of flyers to interest him for all of two seconds. Just plain white. Blank. Nothing. Mac glanced up and down the corridor but it was vacant of other people, just himself there. So surprising for a hospital. He'd known something like this was going to happen. It was bound to happen at some point. He'd just been so wrapped up in happiness, excitement, plans for the future that he'd slipped and let himself forget about the present. And now the present was a reality and the reality was that Don had been beaten to within an inch of his life and the most likely culprits were those he'd considered to be his friends. Mac grimaced and suddenly felt the need to hit something hard. Those bastards. What they had done...to one of their own as well. Don was still the same man, still the same detective, nothing had changed. Mac rubbed his face tiredly with his hands and looked back down the empty corridor. Were they doing the right thing? Was this how life was going to be from now on? Don getting hurt, taking all the abuse for their relationship? Maybe they should just call it off, who were they kidding that this could ever work out? Maybe...

Mac groaned and held his head as a solitary tear formed in his left eye and dribbled down his cheek. This was just like before. The day he'd made the biggest mistake of his life. The day he'd let Don go. He had to stop these thoughts from destroying their happiness together.

_"Mac!" the young, dark-haired man smiled as he saw Mac enter his hospital room._

_"All alone?" Mac asked in surprise._

_Don nodded eagerly. "I sent them away. Told them that I needed some rest...they've been bothering me for days now."_

_Mac nodded and sat down at Don's side. The detective had been in the hospital for just over three weeks now and was coming on leaps and bounds. Unfortunately, the entirety of the Flack clan had descended on the hospital after they'd heard the news, even Don's wayward sister, Samantha. Mac had found himself being brushed to the side, almost blamed for the fact that Don had nearly died, despite saving his life. Don's father had been the only one to thank him properly, telling him his son was his pride and joy, that he wouldn't know what to do if he lost little Donny. Then he went on to explain how he had high hopes for Don. That the other two were a lost cause but Don was the one he knew would be successful, meet a nice girl, settle down, give him the grandkids he hoped for, take care of him in his old age. Mac had blanched at that. Afterwards he'd started avoiding the hospital and Don more and more. Every time he went some member of Don's family was there and he couldn't get a moment alone with the young man. They'd made all the arrangements for Don to stay with his parents whilst he recovered, that they'd take care of him and Mac found it all rather suffocating. On the occasions that he had been caught by a family member he'd been told how they all knew Donny would do alright, how all the girls loved him, how he'd make a nice girl very happy one day. It made Mac sick to his stomach._

_He'd started doubting then. Don's family had all these plans for him, no doubt Don had had them too before he'd met him. Who was he to take them away? And then of course there was work. So far they'd just been very casual and non-committed about what they were doing. But just before the explosion it had suddenly become a lot more serious. Don had admitted his love to him and Mac had even thought he was in love with Don. But no. This couldn't happen. They'd never be allowed to. Don was his subordinate, not to mention a man and if he didn't suffer himself then Don surely would. It could ruin his career, his family would hate him and his future and any hope of children and normality would be destroyed. No, Mac knew what he had to do._

_"You're quiet."_

_Mac looked up to find Don watching him carefully._

_"Busy day."_

_"I thought so. Not seen you here much."_

_Mac was well aware of the sadness that tinged Don's voice._

_"It has been difficult," Mac excused._

_"My family can be kinda overwhelming," Don said understandingly._

_"I've been thinking a lot about us, Don," Mac said. There was no point in putting off the inevitable._

_Don eyed him cautiously._

_"I have something I need to tell you."_

_Don smiled slightly and Mac hated himself for what he was about to do. Last time they'd properly spoken about what they were doing was when Don told him he loved him. The young man now probably assumed that he was going to say the same thing back now._

_"Look, Don," Mac said in all seriousness. "Whatever this is between us...it needs to stop. It's not good for us. It's not healthy."_

_Don stared at him, clearly in shock at what had just been said. Mac looked at him worriedly after he didn't speak for a few minutes._

_"Don, did you hear me?"_

_"Oh I heard you alright," Don choked. "You're leaving me."_

_"Don, I..."_

_"I tell you I love you and then you leave me. Is that it?"_

_"No, of course not. It has nothing to do with that. It's just I've had time to think. Your family, work..."_

_"I don't give a fuck about what my family think! I'll tell them right now if you don't believe me!" Don shouted, a tear rolling down his cheek._

_"And what about work, Don? It wouldn't be allowed, one of us would be sacked and it..."_

_"It would be me. There's no contest between the head of the Crime Lab and a lowly homicide detective. I see."_

_"You're so young, Don. You don't want to be tied down to someone like me. I can't offer you anything. I can't give you all the things you want in life."_

_"And how the hell would you even know what I want from life?"_

_"I'm only doing this for you."_

_"You know what, Mac? Just don't. Don't try to excuse this. I'm in a fucking hospital! I nearly died! It's gonna be months before I can get back to normal. And you come in here and break up with me. You know, you're a real piece of work."_

_"Don, I'm sorry. But it's for the best, just think about it logically."_

_"Oh I am, Mac. You're scared. Scared of loving a man. Scared of having an invalid boyfriend for six months. Scared of all the stereotyping and jibes you'll get if this ever got out. Well fine. I don't fucking need you anyway. Just do me one favour, don't pretend you're doing this for anyone other than yourself. It has nothing to do with work or my family. It's you. Only you!" Don shouted, tears flowing down his face._

_"Don, that's not true. I..."_

_"Get out."_

_"Don, please..."_

_"Get out!"_

_Mac sighed and left the room. He took one last look at Don, breaking down in his hospital bed before he was gone. He waited until he'd left the hospital and was sitting in his car before he let his own tears come._

"Mr. Taylor?"

Mac shook his head and looked up at the doctor standing next to him.

"Sorry..." he mumbled.

"You can see Mr. Flack now if you wish," she smiled.

"Is he okay?" Mac asked, standing up from the seat and feeling all his joints click in protest.

"He's suffered a minor concussion and fractured four ribs. Multiple abrasions and severe bruising to the face, torso, arms and legs. He was very lucky to be found so quickly before any more serious damage was caused. A few weeks of rest to heal and he'll be fine."

"Thank you," Mac replied. "Where is he?"

"They've taken him up to the third floor, room 392."

Mac nodded and then left the doctor, walking down to the elevators and waiting for one to arrive so he could begin his ascent. He wasn't sure what to say. What could he say? Ultimately this was his fault. He was the reason they'd beaten Don. He was the reason Don was lying in a hospital bed now. Mac pressed the button for three and then breathed deeply. He couldn't let the emotion get the better of him. Don would need him to be strong. Don would need him. Just as he needed Don. The doors slid open and Mac found his way down to room 392 pausing with his hand on the door handle before entering the small room.

* * *

A/N - Flashback is from about 3 and a half weeks after 2x24.

I'd like to add that the views expressed in this chapter are not mine.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N - Updating quickly - (Oooo 2 days in a row) for Kates89. Thank you to reviewing peeps, so so so so so so so so x millions appreciated. I love you guys! And for being all nice reviewers I'll give you a hint, come next weekend, this story might be down one character... Ooooooo :(

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**Israel - Chapter Eight**

Don lay in bed looking straight up at the ceiling. His handsome features marred by swelling, bruising and cuts. The hair on the left side of his head had been shaved off and a nasty cut could be seen, stitched up rather haphazardly. He turned his head towards Mac as he entered the room and his grimace of pain didn't escape unnoticed by the older man.

"Don," Mac murmured as he went forward and took hold of a bruised hand.

Don was silent; he just watched Mac as he took up the hand and pressed a kiss to it. Mac's other hand found its way to the younger man's hair and gently stroked it, mindful of the cut.

"God," Mac murmured, fighting hard to keep his anger at bay as he took in Don's wounds.

"I'm so sorry," Don whispered, looking back up at the ceiling. His right eye was barely open, squashed closed by the swelling.

Mac frowned in confusion. "Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for."

"It's my fault. I couldn't stop them. They had me and...and I was weak."

"Don, how many times do we have to do this?" Mac said sadly. "You're not weak."

"I've put you through this again. All the worry..."

"No you haven't. Those bastards did this. They put US through this. We're in this together, Don, for the long run. Me and you."

"So you won't leave me?" asked Don, finally looking back at Mac.

Mac slumped back in the chair, letting go of Don's hand and rubbing his face.

"Do you really need to ask me that?"

Don stifled a cry and looked back up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry. I keep fucking everything up."

Mac held a hand over his mouth and closed his eyes briefly. This was difficult.

"Do you remember what you said to me when I was in here? When I was concerned about looking weak to you?"

Don shook his head gently, his eyes never leaving the ceiling.

"Nothing will stop me from loving you," Mac stated, reaching out to pick up the swollen hand he'd previously held.

A tear fell from Don's good eye and rolled down the side of his head. Mac carefully wiped it away with his hand, remembering what an idiot he'd been when Don had visited him in hospital after he'd been shot.

_ "You shouldn't be here," Mac said as soon as the door opened to his room and the tall detective came in. It was the same greeting that he used every single time Don turned up, which was every day, every moment he wasn't working._

_"And like I told you yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that...yes I should," Don grinned._

_Mac didn't smile. "I...I don't like you seeing me like this, Don. So weak...so..."_

_Don plonked himself down in the chair next to Mac and shook his head. "May I remind you that you used to visit me when I was in hospital recovering from the explosion and I didn't grouch at you."_

_"I didn't give you the chance," Mac murmured apologetically._

_"Hey!" Don said warningly._

_Mac sighed and looked out of his window. "You're so young, Don. You don't want to be stuck with someone like me for the rest of your life."_

_"You trying to dump me again?" Don half joked. It went down like a lead balloon. "Look, Mac. I'm a big boy, I can make my own decisions and if I want to be here with you every day, and with you every day once you get out of here, then I will."_

_"I just think you'd be better off..."_

_"Mac!" Don practically shouted. "If I wanted to be somewhere else...if I didn't want to be with you then I wouldn't be. I've already had enough chances to leave this, in case you'd forgotten."_

_Mac sighed and nodded in acceptance. "I don't really want you to go," he admitted. "I just hate you seeing me like this."_

_Don too his hand and squeezed it. "Nothing will stop me from loving you, Mac."_

_Mac finally smiled._

_"Or believing you're the biggest badass out there," Don added grinning._

_"Shut up," Mac said, shaking his head in exasperation._

_Don laughed and settled back in his chair. "By the way, I think Jo knows about us."_

_"I'd be surprised if there was anyone left who didn't know, the amount of time you've been spending here."_

_For the first time Don's face dropped and he looked genuinely worried. "Shit, Mac. I didn't think. I..."_

_"Hey, it's okay," Mac soothed. "If anyone says anything then we'll just deal with it as and when it happens."_

_Don still looked unsure but nodded anyway._

_"I knew Jo had guessed anyway," Mac said smiling._

_Don cocked his head. "How? You never told me."_

_"It was a long time ago and we weren't actually together then. It was after a case we had at a prep school. Some kid killed her classmate cos she was stealing her friend away and she was in love with him."_

_Don frowned as he tried to remember the case. "Did I work it?" he asked._

_"Yeah," Mac nodded._

_"I don't remember," Don finally shrugged._

_"Well, anyway, after this kid was being taken away Jo turned to me and said, 'Do you think he had any idea?' and I replied, "That his best friend was capable of murder?" Jo then said, "That his best friend was in love with him. It's funny the things we choose not to see."_

_"She said that to you?" gawped Don._

_"Yep. At the time I couldn't help but wonder if she meant me. That she'd recognised that at least one of us was in love with the other but he didn't know."_

_"Well then she got it wrong," Don smiled. "We both knew."_

_Mac smiled too. "That we did." _

"I said that?" Don asked as he turned his head once more to look at Mac.

"You said that," Mac nodded in confirmation. "I was weak; my pride didn't want you to see me like that. But you stayed Don. You were there when I needed you, and afterwards when I tried to deal with the anomic aphasia by myself, you yelled at me, made me see that I needed help. It's okay to need other people, Don, and nothing will stop me from loving you."

"I meant it," Don stated. "When I said that, I meant it."

"And I mean it too now," Mac replied.

Don tried to smile but it looked rather more like a grimace. "We'll be okay," he said softly.

"Course we will," Mac agreed.

"We won't let them break us, Mac. I love you and I'm not afraid," Don murmured.

"Neither am I," Mac smiled.

"The only thing that makes me feel afraid is you not being here with me," the younger man added quietly.

"I'll always be here with you, Don. I'm never leaving you," Mac replied.

* * *

Danny entered the small room nervously and faltered by the door as two sets of eyes locked onto him. The two occupants of the room were locked in a gentle embrace and seemed reluctant to move.

"Err...I can come back..." Danny mumbled and made to leave.

"It's okay, Danny. Come on in," Mac smiled as he straightened up and went over to the younger man. He lowered his voice and then murmured to him, "stay with him will you? I need to check in with Jo."

"Course," Danny whispered and moved to let Mac past out of the room. He heard the door click behind him and then looked back at Flack who was staring at him. They'd certainly done a number on him and Danny was painfully aware that if he hadn't known it was Flack he was looking at, then he wouldn't have been able to recognise him through all the bruising and swelling that masked his usual handsome features.

"How you doing there, buddy?" Danny coughed as he inched nearer.

Flack stared at him for a bit and then attempted to push himself up in the bed. He grimaced in pain and flopped back down. Danny was immediately by his side helping him up.

"Thanks," Flack said gruffly.

"Don't worry about it," Danny replied as he sat down on the chair Mac had vacated.

Flack stared at him again; he noticed the CSI had a black eye.

"Flack, man, you gotta stop staring," Danny mumbled uncomfortably.

"Where were you, Mess?" Flack asked, ignoring what the older man had just said.

Danny sighed and looked away. He couldn't bear those piercing blue eyes that stared straight into his soul.

"I'm so, so sorry, Flack," he murmured.

"I'm not blaming you, Mess. I just want to know where you were?" Flack asked.

"This is all my fault, isn't it?" Danny asked, still avoiding Flack's gaze.

"I thought you had my back," Flack said quietly, finally looking away from Danny and out of his window. The day was slowly drawing to a close and he could just about see the last of the sun's rays from behind the tower blocks.

"I do, Don. I do," Danny cried, taking the opportunity to look at Flack while he was momentarily distracted.

"Then what happened?" Flack asked, looking back at Danny and locking eyes with him.

Danny took a deep breath and gulped. "I went round the back, to catch the guy. I thought I'd head him off."

Flack nodded, it was much as he suspected. "What happened then?"

"I caught up with him running down the back road. I grabbed him and cuffed him. I figured you'd just gone back round the other way so I took him back to the car and got him in it."

"Didn't you figure something was wrong when I wasn't there?" asked Flack sharply.

Danny flinched at the tone of his best friend. "Course I did. But I couldn't leave him alone in the car. It's not like it was a squadcar."

"So you were just gonna leave me?" Flack asked. "I could have been dead."

Danny covered his face as tears fell from his eyes. "I dunno. I tried calling you. I was gonna go back and look but I..."

"But what?" Flack asked angrily. "What excuse can you possibly come up with to justify leaving me alone in that alley?"

Danny sobbed into his hands. "I'm so sorry, Don."

Flack closed his eyes and looked away. He'd thought Danny would always have his back, that he could always rely on Danny but when it had really mattered...he'd been alone.

"I can't do this," murmured Danny and stood up. "I'm glad you're okay, Don," he murmured and then fled the room.

Flack stared after him, tears falling down his face.

* * *

Mac carried the cup of coffee he'd retrieved from a vending machine in one hand and his phone in the other. Jo had confirmed everything was fine in the lab and they could spare him for at least another hour. She'd not heard much about the case against the officers that had attacked Don except they'd been rounded up and were now being interrogated by IA back at the precinct. Apparently Hatcher was doing his nut and Sinclair was on his way over there.

"Whoa!" Mac yelled as someone ran straight into him, nearly knocking his coffee to the ground. "Danny!?"

"Mac," murmured the younger man, looking up, eyes red and swollen with tears.

"Danny, what's happened?" Mac asked in concern, "Is it Don?"

"No Don's fine" Danny mumbled.

"Then what is it?! Mac asked, leading the younger man over to a white, plastic chair.

"He hates me, Mac. He thinks it's my fault!" Danny burst out as he collapsed into the chair.

"I doubt that very much, Danny. Of course Don doesn't hate you. You're his best friend."

"He blames me. I should have gone back to look for him sooner. If I had maybe..."

"Danny. This isn't your fault. And neither is it mine. The only people we have to blame are the ones who did this."

"He said I didn't have his back," Danny choked.

Mac grimaced at his words and placed the coffee on the floor beside him. He put an arm around Danny shoulders and pulled him close, hugging him tight. He let the younger man cry into his arms for a while, waiting for him to calm.

"It's okay, Danny. Just let it out," he said softly.

"What am I gonna do, Mac? I can't lose him," Danny mumbled.

"I'll sort this out, don't worry," Mac nodded as he stood.

"How? What difference can you make?" Danny cried, scrunching his face up against his tears.

"Just wait here, promise?" Mac asked sincerely.

"Whatever," Danny muttered and looked away, sniffing.

Mac sighed and turned from the CSI towards Don's room. He didn't know what could possibly have been said in the five minutes he'd been gone from the room but whatever it was it was serious. Danny now seemed to think that Don hated him, that he blamed him for this attack...how on earth that was possible Mac didn't know. Those cops would have got to Don at some point whether Danny had been there or not. Mac wasn't sure what the younger man was playing at really but he was sure as hell gonna find out. He pushed the door open and stormed over to Don's bedside.

"Don, what the hell is going on?" Mac growled, "I've just bumped into Danny...he's distraught."

"He should be," Don growled back.

Mac stared for a moment in disbelief and then sat down in the chair, hands wiping over his face as his mind raced to find the best plan of action to diffuse the situation.

"Please tell me you're not blaming him for this, Don?" Mac stated seriously.

Don looked towards him. "He just left me, Mac. He wasn't even going to look for me."

"He had a prisoner in his custody whom he couldn't leave. And it was a good job too because this was all a set-up, Don. If he hadn't stayed with Hopkins until Lovato arrived then there would be no-one to testify that those bastards planned this."

"W...w..what?" stammered Don in complete shock.

"They planned this, Don," Mac sighed. "They knew your case, knew you'd be questioning Hopkins so they got to him first and paid him to lead you down that alley."

Don stared at him in silence. He could feel a pain in his heart. This was so much worse than he'd imagined. They hadn't just chanced upon him because of Danny's radio call, no, it had all been a trap..." Don closed his eyes and turned his head away from Mac.

"Don?"

Don heard Mac calling to him but he didn't respond. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone at that moment. They'd wanted him dead... men who had been his friends for years had wanted him dead, all because he loved a man. Now he finally understood. All those years of incomprehension as to why Mac had left him in the hospital after the explosion now seemed so futile. It all made complete sense. Mac had known this would happen, Mac had wanted to protect him from it and he had never believed him, not once. He'd thought it had all been an excuse because Mac was scared but that wasn't it, he realised. Mac had been scared but for a different reason, for him, for his safety, for this exact thing. Don knew all too well what it was like to be sat in hospital, hoping that the person you loved wouldn't die. He'd done it twice himself, once with Jess and the second time with Mac.

_Flack collapsed back into the hard plastic chair and bent over, his head in his hands. This wasn't happening...it just couldn't be happening. No. He felt Jo sit beside him and place a comforting arm around his shoulders. _

_"He'll be okay, Don. I'm sure..."_

_"You don't know that. Not even the doctors can tell us that."_

_"Don..."_

_"What am I going to do, Jo? What am I going to do if he..."_

_"Don't think like that, Don. Try to stay positive..."_

_Flack turned his head to look at her. His eyes were red. "Fuck," he muttered and sat back, wiping both hands over his face._

_Jo didn't say anything. There was no point in telling Don that Mac would be okay when there was a large chance he wouldn't be. They'd both been there, talking to the doctor, both heard what he'd said. She knew the young man loved Mac and that those feelings were returned. She'd had her suspicions for a long time, almost for as long as she'd known them both. But it had been confirmed in her mind the day Flack was caught up in that car bomb. The way Mac had reacted when he'd heard the news...she'd never seen him so worried before. He'd driven like a maniac to the scene and had jumped out of the car before he'd even pulled up to the curb. She'd watched from a distance as the two men danced around one another, clearly wanting to touch, to hug but not being able to._

_"I shouldn't be here," Flack suddenly said, standing up._

_"Where else would you be?" Jo asked frowning._

_"The person who did this is still out there, Jo. I should be out there catching him. Getting the son of a bitch who did this."_

_"Don, the others are working as fast as they can to catch whoever did this. You're place is right here, beside Mac."_

_"No," Flack muttered shaking his head, anger surging through his veins. "No, I need to be out there. I need to be working."_

_"Don...Mac needs you here..." Jo tried to convince him._

_"I need to go," Flack muttered and stormed away before she could say anything else._

_Jo just stared helplessly after him._

But he had returned that day, and Jo had been right. He never should have left. Just like Mac today. Mac hadn't left to question those detectives, if he'd even been allowed. No, he'd stayed and waited for him. Just like he should have done.

_Flack quietly opened the door to the small room and moved to sit in the chair next to Mac's bedside. He reached a hand out and took hold of the unconscious man's hand._

_"I'm so sorry, Mac," he murmured as his eyes welled up. "I'm so sorry for leaving."_

_He brought the hand to his lips and kissed it softly._

_"I never should have left. Jo was right, my place is here...by your side. I was just so scared. I couldn't sit idly by while that bitch was still running around out there."_

_Flack wiped his free hand across his face, trying to remove his tears that were drenching it._

_"We got her though, Mac. We got her and...God...when I grabbed her... it was like time stopped...and I could have..."_

_Flack stifled a sob._

_"I could have done it again, Mac. I could have killed her. Does that make me a bad person?"_

_Flack blinked his tears away but they dribbled down his cheeks._

_"I need you, Mac. I...God...I love you so much. I need you here...to be with me...to calm my temper...to make me a better person..."_

_Flack grasped the hand tightly to his cheek._

_"Just cos I love you. I need you here cos I love you."_

"Don, please talk to me?" Mac was begging.

Don opened his eyes and looked back at Mac.

"You were just trying to save me, weren't you?" he asked.

Mac frowned. "What? When? It was Lovato and Danny..."

"After the explosion. When you left me, you were just trying to save me from this."

Mac sighed deeply. "Yes."

"I never understood that, Mac. Not until now. I'm so sorry," the younger man said earnestly.

He reached a hand out over the side of his bed even though it hurt him to move. He blinked away his tears of pain. Mac sighed as he watched Don's attempt for contact. He didn't understand why Don had never realised this before, the amount of times he'd explained it to him.

"Mac?"

Mac saw that Don was upset at his rejection of the extended hand. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. None of this mattered anymore. What mattered was to get Don and Danny back on track. He smiled and reached out and took Don's hand, standing up at the same time and moving closer. Don watched him closely.

"Don, listen to me carefully. None of that matters now. We've been through this so many times already. I love you. I've always loved you. Every day since the moment I told you about, the night you told me you loved me and I realised I felt the same. It was the biggest mistake of my life to walk away from you in the hospital and yet again to do it a second time with Peyton. I will never forgive myself for doing those things. But we're together now...I love you now...and I can't wait until we're married."

"Mac..." choked Don. He tried to turn, to move nearer but yelped in pain as the movement jarred his body.

Mac was immediately beside him, as close as possible and attempting to make him more comfortable. Don clung to his shirt with his free hand, not wanting him to move away.

"I'm here, Don. It's okay," Mac said soothingly.

"I'm scared," Don whispered. Finally admitting the fear that had settled in his heart after he'd heard that his attack was planned. He hadn't been afraid up until Mac had told him that.

"They won't hurt you again, Don. We have three witnesses, they'll lose their jobs, may even serve jail time."

"But that'll just make other people at the precinct angry at me. Their friends..."

"Don, people are angry right now about what they did. In fact most people are. You didn't deserve this, Don. No-one does."

Don let out a small sob and his hand clenched tighter into Mac's shirt. Mac used his free hand to take it up and hold it gently, untangling it from his shirt.

"And if it really came down to it, I would give up my job a thousand times over for you, Don. You're the most important thing in my life and have been for years," Mac said softly.

Don nodded gently, the movement hurting him. "I'd do the same for you. I knew that as soon as I saw Lindsay doing it for Danny."

"We'll be okay Don. You'll be okay. Like you said, we won't let them break us."

"Never," choked Don.

Mac smiled at him and then leant down and gently kissed him on the forehead. He let go of one of Don's hands and moved the chair closer, sitting down on it and then picking up the hand again. Don looked calmer now and that made Mac feel calmer himself. He hated this, hated seeing Don scared but after what the younger man had been through he was certainly allowed his moment of weakness.

"So what exactly happened then?" Don asked slowly, as though unsure he really wanted to know.

Mac nodded understandingly. "Wolf and Machado overheard you and Danny talking about your case at your desk. They found Hopkins before you and paid him to lead you into the alley where they would be waiting along with their partners. They knew one of you would call it in and they could use that as an excuse for their presence. Valenti and Machado were to trap you whilst Wolf and Kincade were going to get Danny out of the way; fortunately they didn't have to because he caught Hopkins and took him back to the car."

"How do you know all this?" Don asked warily. "I thought you hadn't spoken with them?"

"I haven't," Mac replied. "It was Lovato, Don, she saved you."

"What?" Don choked.

"She overheard their plans and tried to warn you but you'd already left. So she went after you with two officers, and called me on the way. She arrived as Danny was waiting with Hopkins; one of the officers was left to deal with him while she, the other officer and Danny went to find you. They saved you, Don. All of them. You mustn't blame Danny."

Don opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again, unable to form exactly what he wanted to say. He'd been so horrible to Lovato recently and it was only five minutes ago that he'd given Danny an earful too. Yet they had both saved him, stopped his attack before he'd been killed and most likely risked their own lives too.

"I think I need to speak to Mess," Don said quietly to Mac.

Mac nodded and then smiled. "He's outside, I'll go get him."

"Thanks, Mac," Don replied and watched him leave the room. A moment later the door opened and Danny stood there.

"Come in," Flack croaked at him.

Danny hesitated and then walked nearer but he didn't sit. He looked antsy and nervous.

"Danno," Flack mumbled. He felt like an idiot. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Danny bounced on his feet and looked distinctly uncomfortable. His eyes glanced to the door before he sighed and then went to the chair sitting down in it. He rubbed his hands over his face, in a gesture that reminded Flack of Mac, and then held them there, blocking Flack from view.

"It's not your fault, Flack. I shouldn't have stayed with the suspect. I knew...I knew you should have been back at the car by the time I got there. And then you didn't answer your cell and I knew something was wrong. I should have gone after you."

"They would have hurt you too if you'd gone by yourself."

"It would have been better than this!" Danny snapped, looking up and gesturing at Flack's body.

Flack flinched at Danny's anger. "Mac told me it was you who saved me. You and Lovato. I shouldn't have said you didn't have my back. I didn't know..."

"Flack, you have every right to be angry with me but..."

"No I don't! You didn't do this, Danno. Mac was right. The only people to blame are Kincade, Wolf, Valenti and Machado. They planned this; they planned to attack me they wanted me dead. I thought they were my friends..."

"Don't do this to yourself, Don," Danny said shaking his head in sorrow. "They were never your friends. You wouldn't want to be friends with people who can do a thing like this. I thought my probies were my friends but they turned on me too. Your true friends are those who got your back, who you can trust with your life."

"You," Flack nodded and once more tried to smile, failing miserably as the pull on his facial muscles made his right eye look even more swollen and squashed.

"Doesn't feel very much like that now" Danny commented as he stared at Flack.

"No. You did. You had my back, I knew you did and I'm sorry for what I said before."

"It's forgotten," Danny smiled feebly.

Flack smiled and for the first time it actually looked more like a smile than a grimace.

The door opened and Mac came in.

"I see you two are friends again," he said pleased.

"We never weren't," Don stated and Mac shook his head exasperatedly.

"I need to get back to the office. But I found these two outside to keep you company."

The door opened again and Hawkes and Adam appeared with cheery grins on their faces.

"Hey, Flack," Adam said timidly.

"Flack," nodded Hawkes.

"I've assigned them the job of cheering you both up so you better be happy when I return," Mac joked.

"Don't worry about that," Hawkes grinned as he held up a bag. "We were supposed to go for beers tonight...but if you can't go to the beer then the beer shall come to you!"

"Beer!" Flack and Mac shouted at the same time, the younger in an extremely excited tone, the older in one of disdain and shock.

"Well, for us," Hawkes replied. "You my friend have, Mmmm grape juice!"

Flack started grumbling to himself as Mac smiled and then turned to leave. "Look after him," he whispered into Hawkes' ear as he went to the door.

"I'll be back later, Don," Mac said, looking directly at the man in the bed.

"See you then," Don murmured.

Mac smiled and then left the room. Hawkes pulled up a chair the other side of Flack's bed and Adam sat on the windowsill.

"So we got you the standard 'get well soon' teddy bear," Hawkes grinned as he pulled a fluffy pink bear out of one of the plastic bags he was carrying.

Flack stared at it in horror while Danny and Adam started to snigger.

"Oh God," Flack moaned. Hawkes and his God damn thing for teddy bears.

* * *

A/N - Flashbacks are from some point between s8-s9 and 8x22 for the last two.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N - Bit of a long one I know, but I preferred it this way than two shorter chapters. Big Thanks to reviewers - you are all so amazing!

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Nine**

"So how are you feeling, Flack? You up to returning?" Hatcher asked gruffly as he stabbed his pen into the notepad in front of him.

Flack, sat in the chair opposite him, briefly wondered if Hatcher realised how hard he'd done it, ink was now dripping from the nib of the pen.

"Yes, Sir. More than ready. It's been a month now and..."

"You know very well my question wasn't concerning time. Are you ready, Flack? Are you ready to go out there, back into that bullpen?"

Flack watched mesmerised as the ink made its way slowly to the very tip of the nib and dropped onto the paper underneath.

"Yes, Sir. I'm not afraid."

"I take it someone's informed you that the four officers responsible for your attack have been given redundancies, no pension and are awaiting trial."

Flack sighed and grimaced. Yes, he was fully aware of the consequences for the four men who had been behind his beating. They'd all lost their jobs, that was a given. The NYPD couldn't stand for the kind of damage to its image that it would receive should it get out that four of their own were involved in a homophobic attack on a fellow officer. However, the conclusion of IA's investigation was that the attacked had been planned out, premeditated and it was clear their aim was to kill. Therefore the DA was prosecuting all four on an attempted murder charge that would no doubt require Flack to testify along with Lovato, Danny, the junkie Hopkins and the two officers who'd been there. It was just what he needed, a trial and all the scrutiny that came along with it just in time for his wedding. Still, he was lucky to still be alive, to still have his job and most importantly to still have Mac.

"I've been told about what's happened to them, Sir. They say I'll need to testify."

Hatcher exhaled loudly in irritation. "You know I stand by you, Flack? What those men did was wrong in the utmost way. I want you to know that."

"Thank you, Sir," Flack said in relief. If he was honest he'd been a little unsure of what to expect from Hatcher. He knew the Captain had warned him about this type of thing happening and now, as a result he'd been down five detectives for the past month and was down four permanently.

"They're not a happy bunch out there, to warn you," Hatcher sighed, leaning over his desk.

"I can well imagine," Flack mumbled. "I'm ready to deal with whatever reception I get from them."

"You're a braver man than me," Hatcher said and he suddenly smiled. Flack had never seen the gruff and grumpy Captain smile in all the years he'd known him.

"I'm not brave, Sir," Flack said softly. "I'm just living. I chose this life."

Hatcher watched him cautiously for a moment and then leant back in his chair. Flack smiled as he noticed blue ink covering the Captain's left sleeve. He'd leant in the puddle of it that had formed on his notepad.

"Well you best get on then," Hatcher nodded, retrieving Flack's gun and badge from his desk and handing them to him.

"Thank you," Flack nodded as he accepted them back, smiling fondly at his badge for a brief moment.

"Just try and take it easy for a few weeks alright. I don't want to see you back in this office."

"No, Sir," Flack smiled and stood up.

"And Flack?" shouted the Captain as Flack got to the door.

Flack turned, hand ready on the handle.

"Good to have you back, Son," the Captain said.

Flack grinned and then let himself out of the office. He closed the door and let out a big sigh. That had been the easy part. This next bit was going to be the hard bit. He turned toward the bullpen and swallowed nervously.

"It'll be okay."

Flack looked up to see Lovato leaning against the wall opposite the Captain's door.

"Hey," he said softly, walking nearer to the pretty detective.

"Hey yourself. You're looking better."

Flack smiled shyly and glanced down. Faint bruising and scars from the cuts he'd received were still visible on his face and elsewhere on his body but for the most part, all the swelling had gone and his ribs were nearly mended, as was his nose. In the time he'd been away, Lovato had visited him once very briefly with Hawkes but he'd not had a chance to talk to her properly yet.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

Lovato nodded her head, understanding he meant it for more than the compliment she'd just given him.

"The good guys have to stick together, Flack. That's why God placed us here."

Flack was taken aback by the sudden philosophising from the young detective.

"I owe you such an apology," he mumbled awkwardly. "I've been such a bastard to you and you never deserved it. You saved my life...I'm never going to be able to thank you enough."

"I did what anyone would have done in my position. I know we've had our differences but you're a friend, Flack. I couldn't let those guys hurt you."

"I still can't believe they wanted to kill me," Flack said quietly...sadly.

Lovato looked sympathetically at him. "You must have met people like them before? People who are homophobic."

Flack nodded, sure he'd met homophobic cops, and he'd met homophobic killers. He could still remember one particular case that had really gotten to him, a man killing another just because he'd been fooled into thinking 'he' was a 'she'.

_Don wrenched opened his door and was shocked to see Mac standing there. The last few weeks had been particularly tense between them ever since the Truby case. They'd finally managed to make up professionally, but personally...the tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife._

_"Please may I come in, Don?"_

_"I'm kinda busy right now, actually..."_

_Mac glanced past him and Don was perfectly aware that his apartment was a mess of beer bottles, empty takeaway boxes and other rubbish scattered around._

_"I understand your reluctance, but it's important."_

_Don sighed and pushed the door wider, cursing himself for always giving in to him. He swung the door shut and then padded to his sofa which he collapsed down onto, basically ignoring the other man._

_"Stella told me about your case today," Mac said._

_"What? About that guy who said he did the world a favour getting rid of 'that queer'?" Don said gruffly. "Fucking homophobic bastard!"_

_"Stella said you were upset."_

_Don stared at Mac like he was stupid. "Of course I was upset. In case it never caught your attention, I'm kinda 'a queer' too!"_

_Mac frowned at the younger man's bluntness. "You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are, Don."_

_Don slowly rose from the sofa and approached Mac. "Nah, cos I got you to do that for me, haven't I, Mac?"_

_"I was never ashamed of you, Don."_

_Don laughed crazily. "You know what, Mac? I used to be quite happy with myself. I'm nowhere near perfect but I hadn't got a bad lot. Until I met you. That's when I started to always feel no better than a piece of shit. Being someone's dirty little secret will do that to you."_

_Fierce tears spiked in Don's eyes and he felt them burning a trail down his cheek. He couldn't care less. He was so angry with Mac, so upset with Mac, so betrayed by Mac and so in love with him._

_"You don't know how sorry I am that I made you feel that way."_

_"Make. Present tense. You still do."_

_"Don..." Mac reached out to touch the younger man but he flinched away. Last time Mac did that they'd ended up fucking and Don had taken him back into his life._

_"Don't, Mac. Just don't," Don pleaded. "Please don't make this any harder for me than it already is. Just go."_

_Mac stared for a moment and then slowly nodded. He turned and left the apartment and Don went back to his couch, hating himself all the more._

"I have," Flack nodded and looked up warily towards the bullpen where he knew the other detectives and officers would be working, would be waiting and he had to go in there.

"I'll be right behind you," Lovato smiled as she kindly placed a hand on his arm and squeezed it.

"Thanks," he whispered and then turned and walked towards the bullpen.

The moment he entered a hush fell around it, each detective pointing him out to another, all eyes on him and watching. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his breath catching in his throat, nausea fighting its way out of his stomach. He sensed Lovato behind him and felt somewhat reassured; at least he still had one friend even if all the others hated him for being the cause of four of their own losing their jobs and possibly facing jail time. Suddenly a figure broke away from the crowd and came towards him.

"Flack!" shouted a gruff voice.

It was Detective Antonio 'Tony' Marchini. A gruff, brawny Italian man of around forty. Flack had known him ever since he'd come to the precinct.

"It's great to have you back!" shouted the Italian and suddenly pulled Flack in for a huge hug.

"Oof!" Flack exhaled as he felt the life almost squeezed from him as the huge Italian man crushed him fondly.

"Yeah, good to see you," shouted Detective Purvis coming forward. An older cop in his fifties who favoured sweet treats and smelt quite strongly of body odour, but had a heart of gold.

"Thanks Marcs," Flack mumbled as he pulled away and looked round at the other detectives. They were all smiling now and some were even clapping. Flack blushed slightly and hoped his faint bruising hid it.

"Welcome back," called someone else.

"Knew you would make it."

"Looking good."

"Congratulations."

The detectives crowded round him, clambering to speak to him or shake his hand. Flack stood in the centre, numb with the shock of it all and caught Lovato's eye. She was smiling knowingly. Only the pretty blonde cop next to her, Rose Callaghan, looked angry. Flack knew the Irish cop had been dating Machado and possibly still was. However, overall it couldn't have gone any better if he'd planned it himself.

* * *

Danny hummed happily as he worked on some trace in the lab. He was so excited he could barely hold it in. So many things in his life were going right. To start with, Lindsay was beginning to get really excited at the prospect of leaving work. Danny had known she was upset at first and had tried to help her through, but now she had all these ideas and plans to occupy her time, things she'd always wanted to do, possible careers for later on and he felt so pleased and happy for her. Secondly, Flack was better now and had come back to work that very day. They were back to being best buds and it was like their fight in the hospital had never happened. Nothing could separate them, Danny knew that and it made him happy to think that Flack was doing well too. Finally, however, and above all else, was the fact that his son would arrive in two months time and that was the real reason why he was so excited he might burst. A son. His son. His little boy who would grow up to be just like him. Not that he didn't love Lucy to bits, but he'd always wanted a boy. Always wanted a son and now his wish was finally coming true and he couldn't wait.

"Hey, what are you smiling about?" Lindsay asked as she stepped into the lab.

Danny grinned at her, his eyes lingering on her pregnant stomach.

"Just thinking about you guys," he murmured.

Lindsay laughed a little. "It's like you've got nothing else on your mind these days!"

"I haven't," Danny grinned. "I just keep on thinking how lucky I am. Perfect wife, perfect daughter, perfect little boy..." he came over and placed his hands on her belly, directing his last line at it."

"Danny, not in the lab!" Lindsay blushed.

"Sorry can't help it," he grinned.

"Anyway you forgot one thing," she smiled.

"What's that?"

"Perfect husband and father."

Danny looked away, blushing too, like his wife. "Well aren't we just the perfect little family then," he chuckled.

"We'll be alright," Lindsay whispered in his ear.

"Are you sad?" he asked quietly.

"I'll always be sad to leave this place. But whereas before I felt more sad than happy about it, I now feel more happy than sad."

"Good," Danny grinned happily.

"So what you working on?" she asked.

"Bit of trace found in the head wound on our John Doe."

"Ah, John Doe, you say?" Lindsay laughed. "He comes here a lot."

Danny chuckled as he examined the trace through a microscope.

"You know what? I am kinda jealous of you," he remarked.

"Why's that?" she asked.

"Cos you get to do whatever in the world you wanna do now. I can support us so you could chose just about anything."

Lindsay came up behind him and put her arms round him.

"Could do, except there is only one thing I really want to do."

"Hmmm?" Danny murmured, lost in his analysis.

"Be with you," she whispered into his ear.

Danny smiled into his microscope. Oh yes, things really were going perfectly.

* * *

"Mac, thank you for coming to see me," Sinclair smiled as he gestured for Mac to take the seat opposite him.

"I didn't realise it was a choice," Mac said dryly.

Sinclair smiled. "I gather you know why I wanted to see you."

"I assume it's this business with Don," Mac sighed, glancing out of Sinclair's window.

"I've lost four detectives over this. Four good detectives, despite their personal views on certain subjects."

"They tried to kill a man!" Mac shouted angrily.

"That's not been proved yet," Sinclair replied sternly. "You're letting your emotion cloud your judgement."

"Of course I'm bloody letting emotion cloud my judgment!" Mac shouted. "Don is going to be my husband in a month. He very nearly wasn't!"

Sinclair stared at Mac for a moment mulling things over.

"I don't want this to cause any more trouble, Mac. I can't afford to lose anymore good detectives."

"And what do you actually mean by that?" Mac spat, rage surging through his veins.

"If anything else like this should happen, even the slightest hint at it, he's gone," Sinclair stated definitely.

Mac slumped in his chair in shock. "I can't believe you're doing this," he choked. "Don is one of the best detectives you've got."

"That might be so, but he isn't worth four of them," Sinclair replied.

Mac held a hand over his mouth as he thought it over. How the hell was he supposed to tell Don that if any other cops tried it on with him then he'd lose his job. All because he was marrying him. God! Why did life have to be so hard all the time!

"Are you going to inform him of this?" Mac asked.

"I'll leave that to you, Mac," Sinclair smiled.

Mac clenched one of his hands into a fist beneath Sinclair's desk where he couldn't see it.

"What if I gave up my job? Would you let him stay on then despite any trouble?"

"It's not you who cops seem to have the problem with, Mac, and you know that."

"But if Don wasn't marrying another cop, then they'd be more likely to leave him alone."

Sinclair tilted his head as he thought about what Mac had said. "I agree that does make sense, but I'd rather you didn't go Mac. Think about this carefully for one second..."

"It's already done, Sinclair!" Mac shouted, standing up. "I'm marrying Don. Nothing will stop that. And I'll be damned if he loses his job because of that."

"Mac, you're not thinking about this rationally..."

"You're wrong! For the first time in my life I'm thinking perfectly clearly. Don comes first. He always will. I'm getting too old for this anyway, for the politics. You'll have my resignation by the morning."

"Mac, please..."

Sinclair's phone rang and he picked it up roughly. "What!?" he barked into it.

"You must be kidding me," he said angrily into the phone, his eyes coming up to lock on to Mac's.

* * *

Flack saw someone perch on the edge of his desk and looked up to see Lovato there, she was grinning widely.

"You knew?" he asked.

"Course I knew," she smiled. "Everyone's on your side, Flack. What those guys did was so wrong there's no-one here who still sees them as anything but the vilest scum on the Earth."

"You coulda told me," grumbled Flack though he was still smiling. "I've been worried outta my mind that everyone was gonna hate me."

Lovato laughed loudly. "Aw, who could hate you!"

"At a guess, Callaghan?" Flack suggested as he looked over at the blonde cop who was giving him the evil eye.

"Oh, don't worry about that bitch, I'll slap her into place if she gives you a hard time!" Lovato growled and Flack smiled at her happily. It made him chuckle to think of the fiery, little Latino detective protecting him.

"I'm sure I'll be okay," he laughed.

"Me too," she smiled back. "Cos no doubt you've got through worse at work than this."

Flack nodded as he thought of Jess, Cade, the explosion...and then Mac. He closed his eyes as he was suddenly lost in another time.

_Flack was prowling the lab looking for Danny and Hawkes who were going to take him out to celebrate the end of his first case back at work. They'd noticed that instead of being more cheerful to be back at work, happy that he was better, he was instead more glum, even depressed. He couldn't bring himself to tell them, not even Danny, that he couldn't stand being in the same room as Mac. That every time he saw him he plastered a fake smile on his face and made a conscious effort to keep up with his sarky remarks and witty sense of humour, while slowly dying inside. _

_He shook his head as he tried to bring himself out of his thoughts of Mac. It would only hurt him more to linger on it. He heard quiet voices as he approached one corner and as he was about to step round he recognised Mac's voice. The other voice...he knew it...oh yes, it was Peyton, the M.E._

_"You've got that look. It's the same look you had the other night on the Brooklyn Bridge. Surprise."_

_Flack halted and froze. He'd been on the Brooklyn Bridge with Mac and Peyton the other night. It had been the first time he'd seen Mac since he'd come to the hospital to leave him. Perhaps she had noticed something. Had Mac really looked surprised? He flinched as he heard Mac reply._

_"It wasn't surprise. It was just...I knew we'd eventually work the same crime scene together. It's just having a relationship with someone I work with is not something I'm used to. The moment on the bridge was a little...surprising."_

_Flack held a hand to his mouth as he felt his heart break into tiny pieces. Mac had blatantly lied to her. Of course he was used to having a relationship with someone he worked with. He and Mac had dated for almost a year and he was now just dismissing it away as though it had never happened. As though he'd never happened. Flack felt tears brim in his eyes and tried desperately to blink them away. By the time he'd calmed himself he no longer heard talking and breathed deeply before stepping round the corner._

_Flack felt like he'd been shot. That's what it felt like. Or that his gut had been ripped out of his body again. He ran, before anyone could see him, he ran and fled to the men's toilet where he threw up his lunch and breakfast. Mac had been kissing her. Mac and Peyton. Kissing. It all made sense now. The real reason why Mac had left him. He'd just been some fun to pass the time...or a trial to make sure Mac was ready for a serious relationship. Flack let out a sob. Mac had never loved him. Mac had never loved him._

Flack could hear Lovato calling his name, could hear the soft rustle of the other detectives working around him and yet he was lost, memories taking over his mind as another came to the forefront.

_Flack stared at the screen in front of him. The bullpen was bustling with activity, officers and criminals shouting at each other, detectives discussing their respective cases and phones ringing nonstop off the hook. Except Flack didn't hear all that, he wasn't aware of how crowded it was. For the first time in his life he felt alone, truly alone. And it was a cold, hard place he now resided in, one full of bitter resentment and hate. He'd damned himself the day he fell in love with Mac Taylor. _

_A message beeped on his screen but he didn't answer it. He didn't even know it had arrived._

_Mac was gone. Mac had left for London two days ago. Mac had chosen Peyton. Mac had finally made his choice and this was it, permanent. There was no hope he'd ever come back to him now. He hadn't even discussed it. Flack hadn't even known anything was wrong. Mac had told him he loved him, that he didn't love Peyton. That he was leaving her for him. It was all lies. He'd gone without so much as a last look in his direction. Of course Flack had smiled and laughed it off merrily in front of Stella and Hawkes, it was the only thing he could do, even if Stella had glanced his way afterwards with an expression of pity on her face. If only she knew._

_Flack hadn't mentioned to Sammie that he'd let Mac in again. Let him back into his life. How could he have said no? He loved Mac. He loved him so much it hurt. And he would never get to wake up to that smile again, share a moment together in secret at the lab, walk side by side at a scene and not feel the horror of it because he was standing right there. Instead, when he returned it would be awful...like death itself._

_Flack weighed his options carefully. He could act impassive and cold again, but that only hurt last time. It hadn't helped one bit. No. No, this time he just had to move on. Stop hoping of a slim chance he might come back. He had eight days left and he was going to use them wisely. By the time Mac was back he would have removed him from his heart...by any means possible._

"Flack!"

Flack's eyes shot opened and he stared at Lovato.

"Sorry," he coughed as he blinked and checked around him to make sure no-one else was staring.

"No, it's my fault. I should never have said that. Shel told me about your girlfriend Jess. That was stupid of me to say that."

"No, it's fine," Flack assured. Lovato wasn't to know that having his heart broken by Mac was actually the most painful thing he'd ever lived through at work. Still, that was all in the past now and he was getting married in roughly a month. "How's it going with you and Hawkes anyway?"

Lovato blushed slightly and a very feminine smile appeared on her lips. "It's good. Shel is just great."

Flack nodded happily and thought of his own man. He completely understood what she meant.

"Flack, you've got your first case!" yelled Hatcher coming into the room.

Flack quickly shook his head and looked towards his Captain, a wonky grin spreading across his face.

* * *

Jo shuffled anxiously through her post-it-notes trying desperately to find the one she sought. She knew it was yellow and that it had last been seen stuck to the left of her monitor. Unfortunately it wasn't there now and had also disappeared from the local vicinity as well. She sighed in frustration as she searched under the copious amount of books and folders that covered her desk. It had the number of a great little bakery on it and she'd ordered the wedding cake from it a few months ago. What with the date fast approaching she wanted to ring and double check everything was still going to plan but had completely and utterly lost the number. It had to be around there somewhere...

"Jo, what are you doing?"

Jo looked up, sweeping back a few loose hairs that had fallen over her eyes to see Lindsay standing in the doorway smiling at her.

"Well you wouldn't believe what I've gone and done now would you?" she said shaking her head.

"What's that?" Lindsay asked as she sat down at her own desk.

"I've gone and lost the number for that cute little bakery I'm getting Mac and Don's cake from."

Lindsay laughed loudly and Jo frowned at her.

"It's not funny!"

"I wasn't laughing at that," Lindsay smiled. "You rang them three days ago to check that everything was okay with the cake."

"I did?" Jo said in surprise.

"Yes. Then because you knew you'd lose the number again you gave me a copy of it for safekeeping. I have it here on my computer."

Jo leant back in her chair and smiled. "Well that was very organised of me."

"Sound like you," Lindsay joked and the two women smiled.

"So how're you doing, Lindsay?" Jo smiled.

"Good, only two months to go now. I've got that excited feeling again. I mean, like really excited."

"Gosh only two months and then we'll have another little Messer running about."

"I'm not sure about running," Lindsay mused.

Jo chuckled. "Well you know what I meant."

"I know, I've got my hands full with two of them already."

"Two of what?" Danny asked as he poked his head into the office and smiled.

"Ears burning, eh?" Jo asked.

"Nope, just came to see my beautiful wife," Danny grinned.

"Oh, what a charmer you lucky girl," Jo laughed at Lindsay.

"I know," Lindsay replied happily. "What's up?"

"Just off to a scene on the East Side, something about a dead guy stuffed in a box. Flack's already there."

"Well have fun...and say hi to him from me," Lindsay replied.

"To the dead guy?"

"To Flack, idiot!"

Danny grinned cheekily and left the office. Jo was about to speak when her phone rang and she answered it still smiling. Her face fell immediately and Lindsay leant forward in concern. Something was wrong.

"Mac, slow down, you're not making any sense..."

Lindsay frowned at Jo but she shook her head.

"Yes, we're all here. At least I think we are."

Lindsay gestured to the hallway and the fact that Danny had said he was just about to leave.

"Oh, Danny's about to leave...what? Get him back?"

Jo signalled to Lindsay to grab Danny before he left and without hesitation the younger woman went from the room in search of her husband.

"Mac, what is going on? No, Flack's not here...yes, that's right...he's at a scene over on the East Side, waiting for Danny I'd imagine...how am I supposed...Mac? Mac?"

Jo placed the phone back down in confusion and frowned worriedly. Something bad had happened.

* * *

"God, the poor bastard looks a mess," Flack stated as he stared down at the body of an elderly man squashed into a cardboard box in an alley.

"The stench is something else," replied Hontz, a young officer who'd been out on the beat about six months now. He worked out of Flack's precinct and the two men had worked together at numerous scenes. The perky officer was so enthusiastic about everything it was hard not to like him and Flack had become good friends with him in a short amount of time. In fact Hontz had been the officer who had saved him along with Danny and Lovato from the other cops. Hontz had a strange black quiff that Flack rather admired and almost reminded him of the hairstyle he'd chosen during his own first few years as a cop. However where as he'd had no good excuse of his own for such an atrocity, he'd discovered that Hontz was an Elvis impersonator in his spare time and Flack had asked him to sing at his wedding reception.

"Thought you'd be used to it by now, Hontz," Flack replied, smirking at the young man.

"Man, I can't imagine ever getting used to it," he moaned.

"You don't," Flack replied, nodding as he spoke.

"Any ideas what might have happened?" asked the officer attempting to be professional and ignore the smell of the decaying carcass.

"Not my job. That's what CSIs are for," Flack grinned, scribbling something down in his memobook.

"You must be able to tell something though?" asked Hontz, eagerly trying to learn from his senior.

Flack chuckled and flipped his pad closed, placing it in his jacket pocket.

"Well, for starters this guy was dead before he was placed in the box, see here," Flack bent down and pointed with his pen. "There's no blood on the box at all apart from a few marks that I'm guessing would have been transferred when the body was shoved in here."

"Wow," murmured Hontz in awe.

"Secondly this box has been moved; see the drag marks along the ground. That means something heavy was in the box when it was moved; I'm guessing this old guy was the package."

"Incredible."

"Lastly, I noticed skid marks in the road as I entered the alley. It's possible they're unrelated but from the looks of these drag marks I'd say a vehicle, most likely a van, stopped suddenly in the street. The box was thrown out and dragged down the alley with the guy already inside it. However, as he was dead when he was put in the box we're looking for another crimescene as this," he gestured to the alley, "is not our primary."

"That's amazing," Hontz said excitedly as he gawped at Flack in admiration.

"Nah, it's just obvious when you know. And I bet you that when the CSIs get here they can tell you a hellova lot more than I can and make me look stupid."

"I doubt that. So how long does it take to make detective do you reckon?"

"Well..."

"Flack!"

Flack turned in surprise as he heard his name called and saw Callaghan storming down the alley, long, blonde hair flouncing behind her and an angry look on her face. Flack frowned.

"What you doing here, Callaghan?" he asked curtly.

"You're off the case," she snapped.

"What?" Flack said in shock.

"You're off the case. Looks like lover-boy is already pulling in favours for you!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Flack asked angrily.

"Officer, don't you have work to do?" Callaghan stared at Hontz.

Hontz looked nervously between the two detectives and then disappeared off towards his partner who was leaning against their squadcar smoking a cigarette. Callaghan waited until he was gone before turning to Flack and answering his question.

"Mac wants you back at the lab."

"But I'm on a case," Flack replied irritably.

"Not anymore. It's mine now," she retorted. "I'll need your notes."

"I don't understand," Flack replied, ignoring her request. "He can't just take me off a case!"

"Well he has."

"But it's not his job..."

"Flack!" she snapped. "Look, I really don't give a damn about your little tiffs with your boyfriend so just give me your god damn notes and go!"

Flack frowned angrily at her. "Fine." He pulled out his notes and handed them over before storming from the alley towards his car. He didn't know what Mac was playing at but he was going to find out soon enough. The man had no right to pull him from cases, whatever the problem was.

* * *

Mac exited the elevator before the doors had even fully opened and stormed down the corridor to the conference room. He was in an absolutely terrible mood and not even the brief conversation he'd had with Stella on the phone whilst driving had made him feel any better about the current situation. He was pleased to see his team waiting patiently around the table in the conference room as he entered and even Sid had come up from the morgue to hear what was about to be said. In fact, the only thing they were lacking was one tall, rather lanky homicide detective.

"Where's Flack?" Mac snapped as soon as he entered.

Immediately a hush went round the room and all looked up warily at him.

"He hasn't arrived back yet," Jo replied, annoyed and confused by Mac's seemingly irrational behaviour.

"And no-one thought to call?" Mac said incredulously.

"Mac, what's going on?" Danny interjected as he stared worriedly at his boss.

Mac eyed him angrily for a moment and then slowly relaxed. He needed to keep his head on this one. There was no need to worry everyone like this, he should have been more careful. And yet, and yet he was worried himself.

"I've been in a meeting with Sinclair this morning," Mac started, breathing deeply to calm himself.

The others waited silently for him to continue, they knew when to interrupt and when to let Mac get on with things.

"While I was there he received a phonecall in regards to something which affects us all."

"What is it, Mac?" Jo asked, her tone softened.

"Two weeks ago, Andrew Bedford escaped from jail."

"Bedford...why does that ring a bell?" Danny asked, frowning as he wracked his brains.

"The 333 stalker," Adam said timidly before Mac could reply.

All faces were on him, staring in horror and then they turned to Mac, expectantly waiting for more information.

"They're still not sure how he got out but think he had help from the inside. He's been in the wind ever since, though there are eyes on his known associates," Mac informed them.

"How does a thing like this even happen?" Danny said angrily.

"And why are we only finding out about this now?" Lindsay asked.

"I have no idea why it took so long for New York to be informed about the situation," Mac sighed.

"They should have told you first as a priority, Mac," Sid spoke up.

"Who's Andrew Bedford?" asked Jo worriedly.

"He's a guy from Mac's past who stalked him and tried to kill him," Hawkes stated.

"I knew him back in Chicago when we were kids. He blamed me for his brother's death," Mac murmured. "I'll get you the file."

"Thanks," Jo nodded, watching him carefully. Something was off. "Are you going to get protection?" she asked.

Mac turned around suddenly. "Why would I need it?" he snapped.

Jo looked taken aback and glanced at the others in confusion.

"Mac, what's eating at you?" Danny asked.

"Last time he didn't come to this city to kill me," Mac said angrily. "He came to punish me."

"He wanted to kill one of us," Lindsay said suddenly, gasping as she realised the full impact of that statement.

Mac collapsed into the chair at the head of the table. "I took one of his family," he said softly. "And he wanted to punish me by taking one of mine. One of you."

"You think we're all in danger?" Jo asked.

Mac nodded and held his face in his hands. "He tried to kill my work family before. I'm afraid that he may well have another go."

"What about Stella?" Hawkes asked.

"She's fully informed of the situation. I rang her in the car," Mac replied.

"But surely he would have done something by now, I mean, he's had two weeks?" suggested Adam.

"I don't know, Adam, I just don't know," Mac sighed. He felt like his world was falling apart.

"Mac, it'll be okay. We know how this guy works now. We'll be prepared. Last time we had no idea who he was," Danny reassured his father figure.

"I just need you all to be extra vigilant from now on until he's recaptured."

Everyone nodded and then sensing it was time to leave they all got up and started exiting the room.

"Danny, Lindsay? Can I have a word?" Mac called after the two Messers.

The married couple swapped a look and then waited in the room.

"Listen," Mac said as he stood and went over to them. "You both know how I consider you to be my family, and I don't just mean work. Danny, you know how much I love you, how I think of you as a son."

"Mac, we'll be okay," Danny comforted.

"Just listen, alright?" Mac said severely. "Last time he targeted my work family because I had none of my own. You two and Lucy are my family now. I want you to be especially careful, and with Lucy. I'm going to send an officer to watch your house until Andy is caught."

"Mac, that's really quite unnecessary," Lindsay said gently.

Danny put his arm round her. "Babe, maybe Mac is right. You're pregnant right now and I don't want anything to happen to you or Luce while I'm not there."

"Fine," Lindsay nodded.

Mac put his arms round her and hugged her tightly. Then he put a firm hand on Danny's shoulder and squeezed it. God forbid anything should happen to this family that he cared for so deeply.

The door opening interrupted the moment.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. What'd I miss?" Don asked as he entered the room.

* * *

"Drew Bedford?" Don repeated in shock as he sat on the couch in Mac's office. Mac was pacing back and forth across the space in front of his desk.

"Yes. For two weeks."

"And they only just thought to inform you now?" Don asked, looking up as he did so. He alone knew the full extent of the case involving the 333 stalker. It had been him who had followed Mac to Chicago, had listened to his story, had visited the room where it had all begun.

"They weren't even calling to let me know, it was to tell Sinclair," Mac spat angrily.

"I can't believe this is happening," Don murmured. "I've only just got back on my feet and then this...and right before our wedding."

"Don, I won't let this ruin anything!" Mac said vehemently and sat down next to Don. He took the detective's hand in his own, uncaring that he might be seen.

"How are you supposed to do that?" Don asked sadly. "We're gonna be looking over our shoulder until they catch him again and by now he could be anywhere."

"Don, I promise you. We're going to get married and it will be the most perfect day," Mac said softly. "You know what? Ironically it was Andrew Bedford who made me realise just how much I loved you."

"What?" Don yelped in surprise.

Mac sighed and clasped Don's hand tighter. "I realised just how much I needed you in my life, Don, the day I first told you about the 333 stalker. I knew you still hated me, that you were trying your best to get on with things and accept them the way they were. But I knew you really cared when I told you, I saw fear in your eyes and knew that was for me. Even if you did have a girl."

Don smiled at the memory. "You do realise Devon never meant anything to me. I mean, talk about rebound relationship, poor girl. I broke up with her the day after you told me. You were right. I was concerned for you. I wanted you to get protection."

Mac let out a breath. "You know that's not me."

"Yeah. But I was worried."

"You were the only one I felt I could rely on. The only one I wanted to support me. I'd told Stella but it wasn't the same. You've always been the only one who ever made me feel secure...safe," Mac said honestly.

Don smiled and placed his other hand on top of the one Mac had holding his.

"We'll be okay, Mac. Look at everything we've already been through. We can face this."

"I'm just worried for you. And Danny and Lindsay. All of you are my family and that's whom he was after last time."

"And last time, who won?" Don asked softly.

"Just be careful, alright?" Mac asked. "This guy is dangerous. Clever. And who knows what jail has done to him. I don't want you to be going off on your own anymore. No playing ball by yourself or going out late at night...and be careful at work."

Don blinked and then frowned, dropping his hands from Mac's and standing up. "I'm not a kid, Mac. Don't treat me like one."

"I'm not," Mac said as he too stood. "I'm trying to protect you here!"

"I don't need your protection, I can take care of myself!" shouted Don, starting to get angry. Mac was patronising him and he hated it.

"What?" Mac shouted back. "Like you did during the riot in the precinct? Or when Zane Kalim kidnapped you? Or when you nearly got killed by those four detectives?"

Flack stared at him in silence for a second and then he turned and stormed away out of the office.

"Don!" Mac shouted after him.

Don didn't even turn back.

"Don!" yelled Mac as he pulled open his office door. A few lab techs in the corridor watched nervously.

Don still didn't turn as he angrily jabbed the button for an elevator.

"Don, you come back here!" ordered Mac as he walked towards him.

The elevator doors opened and Don disappeared inside.

"Don't you dare just walk away from me," Mac shouted as he reached the elevator doors.

Too late. The doors slid closed and Don was gone.

* * *

Mac padded down the corridor to his apartment exhaustedly. The day had been a disaster from beginning to end and he couldn't wait to get home. He hoped to God that Don was there, that the younger man hadn't decided to go off to a bar for the evening just to spite him. Not that Don was a spiteful person, but Mac knew he had overstepped a mark today and that he should never have undermined Don's capabilities. And then there was the fact that Andrew Bedford was now free from jail and that scared Mac more than anything. Not to mention the fact he might not have a job for much longer, which he had neglected to tell Don. And he was still yet to find out how Don's first day back at work had gone. Mac unlocked his front door and froze as he heard loud music booming around the apartment. He recognised it immediately as Prokofiev's Dance of the Knights. He frowned and shut the door, proceeding into his apartment without even bothering to remove his shoes, a rare occurrence for him. A light was glowing from the kitchen and Mac went over to the door and pushed it open, staring in shock at what he saw. Don was in the kitchen conducting an invisible orchestra with a wooden spoon. Pans were boiling over on the hob and he was singing, 'bom bom bom bom bom,' and stomping his feet in time with the beats of the music whilst flicking sauce all over the kitchen. The whole place was a mess. A grin spread across Mac's face as he watched his fiancé who was clearly in his own little world and then he loudly cleared his throat.

Don jumped and turned around in horror at being caught. "Mac, you're home early!" he squeaked.

"I rather disagree; it seems to me like I came home late. Have I missed much of the performance?"

Don blushed something terrible and then went over to his ipod to turn off the music. "How long have you been there for?" he asked sheepishly.

"Long enough," Mac replied, still grinning.

"I was cooking dinner," Don replied hurrying to the hob to turn down the heat as he suddenly noticed the pans boiling over.

"Get distracted, hmm?" Mac teased.

Don once more blushed and pretended to busy himself by looking into his pans and stirring the contents. Mac felt slightly awkward, he didn't know if Don was still pissed at him.

"So I didn't know you were a fan of classical music? You like Prokofiev?" Mac asked as he stepped into the kitchen.

Don didn't look at him as he replied and Mac had a sneaky suspicion that the younger man was still embarrassed.

"I don't like classical music. I like the ballet."

Mac nearly fainted in shock and had to clutch at the wall to steady himself. "I'm sorry, I think I misheard you."

Don looked up from his pans. "I said I liked the ballet. Dance of the Knights is from Romeo and Juliet."

Mac blinked and shook his head in disbelief. "Yes, that's what I thought you said. Why have you never told me?"

"Cos I know you'd try and drag me to the opera and I hate opera...all that screechy singing...yuk! Ballet is silent, it's nice. Actions speak louder than words and all that. I sometimes think people shouldn't talk so much in real life, I get sick of people talking bull to me all day long at work."

"I can understand that," mused Mac. "So how did you discover you liked the ballet?"

Don grinned goofily at him. "I accidently went to see one. It was the Nutcracker. I thought it was about the army, some Colonel cracking people's balls...like getting them into shape for conflict."

Mac couldn't help but laugh loudly at Don's mistake. How on Earth anyone could think that was beyond him.

"Surely there were some pictures outside? You must have realised within the first few minutes of the performance why did you stay?"

"I dunno, I don't remember. And I was gonna walk out but it started off all Christmassy and you know how much I love Christmas. And by that time I was hooked. I liked the music, the dancing and the no speaking."

Mac chuckled again. He just couldn't get over this. Don liked the ballet; it was even more amusing than Don reading Shakespeare. It was really quite amazing the secrets you learnt about someone when you lived with them.

"So which is your favourite?"

"Hmmm," Don hummed as he glanced back into his pots and gave them all a quick stir. "I quite like Don Quixote, but I think my favourite is La Bayadere, although it's a bit sad; everyone seems to die in it. I hate Swan Lake, that one's overrated."

"Why do you hate Swan Lake?" Mac asked as he smiled again, he just couldn't hide his amusement.

"Well I think the bad guy, Rothbart, is pretty cool, I'll give them that. But Prince Siegfried is an idiot. All he has to do is choose the right girl, make the right choice but he doesn't and because of that he loses Odette. It's stupid and I don't like birds."

Mac couldn't stop himself. He howled with laughter at what Don had just said. He hated Swan Lake because he didn't like birds. He'd never heard anything like it.

"God I love you, Don," Mac said at last, blinking tears of laughter from his eyes. "Even after twelve years you can still surprise me...and you say I'm a man of mystery!"

"It's not that big a deal," grumbled Don as he turned off the hob and took the pans off the heat.

"I think it's a huge deal," Mac said softly. He smiled and went over to Don, wrapping his arms around him from behind and kissing the back of his neck. "Look, I'm sorry about today. I realise I was out of line. I never should have said those things to you."

Don sighed and let his hands rest on top of Mac's. "You made me feel really small. Really weak and pathetic. You know how I've been anxious about that ever since I was kidnapped and you used that against me. It wasn't fair, Mac. I can take care of myself. I'm a cop for Christ's sake."

Mac felt a deep sense of shame and regret as he listened to Don's words.

"I know, Don. If I could take back what I said then I would, but I can't. However I want you to know it will never happen again. I respect you too much."

"I just don't want you to think I'm incapable," Don said quietly.

"I don't!" Mac said quickly. "I never have. What I said to you today was only because I was worried. You have proven yourself time and time again as a capable officer; brave, diligent, sensible, intelligent. You know I don't need to say this because I know you already know this."

"Still nice to hear," Don mumbled.

Mac let go of the detective and pushed him round so he could see him. "I'm sorry, Don."

Don blinked his big blue eyes at Mac. "I know you are," he replied.

"Are we okay?" Mac asked cautiously.

Don smiled. "Course we are."

Mac smiled in relief.

"I hate it when we argue," Don murmured.

"Me too," agreed Mac.

"Do you remember our first argument?" Don asked quietly.

"How could I forget?" Mac said.

_"Mac, are you even listening?" and angry voice stated. Don's voice._

_Mac turned to look at him._

_"You know she's a good CSI and she didn't tamper with the evidence."_

_"She thought about it, Don," Mac stated._

_"Exactly, thought...not did!" Don defended._

_"I need to be able to trust my investigators, Don. That is essential to the lab. If evidence from just one case can be called into question then so can every single piece of evidence ever processed by this lab," Mac said angrily._

_"I understand that, Mac. But..."_

_"But what? There's no excuse. Even Danny understood that," Mac interrupted._

_"Danny's pissed at you," Don snorted._

_"He'll get over it. He knows how important it is to make sure evidence can be relied upon. Aiden let the case get to her and that's dangerous. Surely you realise the severity of her actions? What would you do if you were working with a cop you didn't feel you could trust? Who might not have your back?"_

_Don stared at Mac angrily. "Aiden wasn't like that and you know it!"_

_"I'm not discussing this with you anymore, Don. My decision is final in case you'd forgotten," Mac growled._

_"She didn't need to be fired," Don said bitterly._

_"Don't tell me how to do my job, Flack," Mac snapped. "You're forgetting your place."_

_Don didn't speak but only gazed at Mac in fury. "Fine," he finally said. He turned and stormed to the door. "Oh and Mac, I think it's best we don't go out for anymore drinks." _

_Then he was gone and Mac felt himself break a little bit._

"But we made up," Mac reminded Don. "We always do."

_Mac looked up and noticed Don standing hesitantly by the door to his office. Mac gestured for him to enter. Don nodded gratefully and nervously entered the room, fidgeting with his hands, a tell-tale sign._

_"What can I do for you, Flack?" Mac asked, surveying him._

_"I...um, I... I just wanted to apologise to you, Mac. I should never have shouted at you the other day."_

_Mac watched Don's sorrow with interest and sympathy. "You were upset," was all he said._

_"Yeah, I was. But I still had no right to tell you how to do your job, or how to manage your staff," Don stated regretfully._

_"Flack, I understand. Aiden is your friend and you just found out she lost her job, that you wouldn't get to see her every day. It's logical you'd be worried and upset, just like Danny was," Mac said understandingly._

_"Yeah, but I bet he didn't yell at you," Don muttered miserably._

_"Well, no. But I am his boss," Mac stated wisely._

_Don nodded and sighed. "Well that's all I really wanted to say...you know, that I'm sorry."_

_Mac studied him carefully. "Take care, Don. I'll see you tomorrow."_

_Don turned and walked to the door. He paused before he opened and looked back at Mac who was still watching him carefully. "I don't suppose you'd...that you'd want to go for a drink later?"_

_Mac's eyes narrowed in severity for a moment, and then he smiled at the younger man. "I'd love to."_

_A grin finally broke out on Don's face and Mac suddenly realised how much he'd missed that goofy smile._

"We'd only been out on one date by then hadn't we?" Don said, remembering.

"Yup," Mac nodded.

"I'm glad we made up" Don said, hugging Mac. "I'm glad we make up every time."

"Agreed," Mac laughed gently as he went back over to the ipod, turning the music back on.

"Mac?" Don frowned, watching from his place by the hob. "What're you doing?"

"Well, there are certain things you don't know about me too..." Mac smiled.

"Like what?" Don asked in puzzlement.

"I love..." Mac said as he drifted his way back over to Don. "...to dance!"

The older man suddenly grabbed the younger's arms and pulled him along through the kitchen and out into the hallway dancing to the music and spinning him round.

Don laughed his head off.

* * *

A/N – Flashbacks from 3x14, 3x01, a few days after 3x24, 2x02 and 2x03


	10. Chapter 10

Super thanks to reviewers, you're all smashing! I still love you all. :)

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Ten**

Mac walked along the sidewalk to the small bar he was becoming ever more familiar with. He still had a lot playing on his mind but right at that moment he felt rather contented and excited about the following day; his wedding day. Nothing had been heard from Andrew Bedford in the last month and Mac was beginning to relax and hope that the escapee had simply decided to get as far away from New York and America as possible, rather than seek out any vengeance. He still hadn't told Don about Sinclair's warning or about the fact that he'd told Sinclair he was giving up his job. He hadn't actually handed in a formal resignation yet; he wanted to stay on until Bedford was found but then after that he felt happy at the prospect of finally retiring and doing something more satisfying with his life.

Mac entered McTiers and glanced around, smiling at the decorations that were already up in the main bar. Lindsay and Jo had done a marvellous job of making the Irish bar look slightly more suitable to hold a wedding reception in and he exhaled in amusement as he thought of the argument Jo had had with Don, trying to convince him to change his mind on the venue. The lanky detective had not conceded. Mac was there to speak with the owner, Derry McTier, one last time and check everything was sorted before the wedding tomorrow. Don would have come but he'd been on the night shift and would only have just come off duty, most likely heading home to rest before the big day. Mac had naturally promised to work right up until the wedding day but only had to work a half day which meant he'd see Don later on, and he couldn't wait.

"Hello, Mac," welcomed the barman who was drying glasses behind the bar.

"Ralph. I've come to speak with Derry," Mac replied.

"He's out back," Ralph nodded.

"Thanks," Mac smiled and he entered through a doorway that led to a hallway housing the cellar, Derry's office, a private back room and a staffroom.

* * *

Lindsay relaxed back into the chair she was sat in, trying to make herself more comfortable in the late morning sun. She was eight months pregnant now and had got to the stage where she was simply looking forward to it being over and motherhood beginning for the second time. It was too ideal for words to have first a girl and now a boy and she smiled happily at the thought of welcoming the newest member of their family in only a month. Danny was more than excited about the prospect of having a son and Lindsay felt so happy that she was the one who had made his dreams come true. She was truly a lucky woman. She smiled as her companion came towards her carrying a tray of two steaming hot beverages and two pastries.

"Here we are," smiled Adam as he set the tray down on the table and began sorting the items. "Decaff tea and cinnamon whirl for you, coffee and apple danish for me."

"You never change," Lindsay laughed as she watched him look excitedly at his pastry.

"Why change when you already know what is best?" Adam smiled, tucking into the apple danish. "So how's maternity leave?" he asked.

"Relaxing," Lindsay sighed though she still looked a tiny bit sad.

"Sorry," Adam mumbled awkwardly.

"No, it's fine. I'm doing the right thing for my family. I'm just gonna miss you guys all so much. Has Mac found a replacement for me yet?"

Adam nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, her name is Kate Lucas, a New Yorker. She started two days ago."

"What's she like?" Lindsay asked as she sipped her tea.

"Kinda like Flack but female and a ton cleverer."

Lindsay giggled loudly. "You can't say that, Adam!"

"Kinda just did, Linds," Adam smiled, then suddenly his face went serious. "Umm, he's not behind me is he?"

"No!" laughed Lindsay.

"Oh, cos that did happen to me this one time. I was talking about Mac and then he came up behind me and..." Adam trailed off as he realised Lindsay had probably heard the story.

"Danny told me," she nodded.

"Right," Adam said nervously.

He liked Lindsay a lot, she was his best friend in the lab and he was sad to see her go, even if he understood her reasons. She'd been gone an entire week now and it had felt like the longest week he'd ever worked there and definitely not as much fun. He sighed and looked around them. They were sat outside a cafe they went to often and the bright sun shone down warming them. The hustle and bustle of the street passed them by on the other side of the few planters that made a wall between the sidewalk and the cafe but they barely heard them. It was a lovely morning, a relaxing morning and Adam was pleased that Lindsay seemed okay.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" he asked.

"No. We're going to decide when the baby comes. Sometimes it kinda just pops into you head the moment you see their face."

"But you get the final say," Adam grinned knowingly.

"Of course" Lindsay confirmed. "Danny wanted all these terrible Italian names; I had to put my foot down there."

"Yeah, he told me you conned him into believing you wanted to call the baby Sheldon."

Lindsay laughed her head off in glee. "He really believed me!"

"You know it took his parents six weeks to come up with that name."

Lindsay shook her head. "Poor Hawkes."

"What about Mac? I mean he is Lucy's godfather, and like a Dad to Danny," Adam mused.

"Yeah, but he might want to use his name if he has his own kids. Anyway, Flack is going to be this baby's godfather."

"Oh, you asked him did you?" Adam smiled.

"Yeah, Danny did. Their like brother so it just felt right. Especially with him and Mac getting married," Lindsay replied as she cut up her swirl and then chose a piece to eat. "You think they will have kids?"

"I dunno," Adam shrugged. "I guess Mac is a bit old. But Flack told me once he'd love to be a dad."

"Really?" Lindsay asked interestedly. "You never told me that!"

"Sorry," Adam mumbled. "It was a long time ago, back when he was with Jess. We used to play a lot of playstation together. He said he'd like to have a son."

"Guess he thought his life would turn out differently back then."

"Think we all did," Adam mused. "I mean, did you ever really see yourself marrying Danny Messer when you first met him?"

Lindsay smiled and tilted her head to one side as she thought about the very first time she had met her husband. "He was cute," she reminisced. "But I kinda wanted to slap him," she laughed.

Adam chuckled at her.

"What about you?" she asked him.

"I never in a million years thought a woman as beautiful as Michelle would fall for me. I know how lucky I am," he said, smiling shyly.

"Is that wedding bells I hear?" Lindsay suggested.

Adam laughed nervously. "Not yet I don't think. We have to get through Mac and Flack's first."

"I still can't believe that's tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to it," Lindsay sighed. "It'll be nice to see everyone, even if it has only been a week."

"You'll get used to it," Adam said softly, gently patting her arm across the table.

"Thanks, Adam," she murmured. "Oh...the baby's kicking!" she gasped, holding her stomach.

"Wow, can I feel?" Adam asked, then he suddenly blushed. "Actually, don't worry. I think I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Lindsay said, laughing at his embarrassment.

"No, yeah, I'm sure," Adam mumbled.

Lindsay chuckled at him. His timid manner always made her laugh so much. "I think I'm just going to pop to the toilet, that tea went straight through me," she said getting up carefully.

"Way too much info, Linds," Adam muttered as he watched her make her way between the tables with difficulty and laughed.

* * *

Mac strolled down the hallway of McTiers when the sound of someone tickling the ivories came to him and he paused for a moment, letting the dream-like music swirl around him, warming his soul and letting him have a very rare moment of true peace. He vaguely recognised the piece; it was so beautiful, so melodious and Mac couldn't help but feel that happiness inside him leap about and start dancing. Yes, he did recognise it, 'Comptine d'un Autre Été' he thought it was called, from that French film he'd seen a little over a month after Claire passed. He hadn't meant to, he'd been wandering the streets of New York as if he'd been a lost tourist. No plans, nowhere to go, just wandering, wandering and watching. He'd come across a tiny theatre in a part of the city he'd not been to before, in a street he no longer remembered the name of. They'd been showing it, Amelie. Yes, the film was Amelie, a love story. Claire would have liked it; he remembered thinking that at the time. He'd forgotten about that whole experience until now, hearing the music. Perhaps that's why he felt so inspired? Mac smiled as he thought of Claire. She'd be happy he was happy, that inside he was dancing with joy at the prospect of being married again. The piece finally ended, it wasn't long; only two minutes, and Mac shook his head, bringing himself out of his thoughts. He walked on towards the room the music had come from and just as he reached out for the door handle it started up again and Mac felt himself melt all over again. He wished Don was there with him too to enjoy it, even if he had said he disliked Classical music, he liked the ballet and that was similar. Mac opened the door and walked in. He nearly died a death right there and then.

Don was playing the piano. His hands moved effortlessly over the keys with the complete ease of a professional. The fluidity of the movement intoxicating and Mac watched in awe for a moment. Don hadn't seen him, so concentrated on the music as he was. Mac smiled and approached quietly, entranced by the grace of his lover's posture and absorption in his playing. Mac didn't want to startle the younger man, he didn't want to ruin the piece but he longed to reach out and touch him. He waited patiently, smiling and swaying gently to the tune. Don finally came to the end and paused, his fingers still lingering on the keys. He sighed and then released them, sitting back on the stool and blinking. Slowly, Mac reached out and gently touched Don's shoulder. He didn't even jump. Mac's smile widened and he leant down, wrapping his arms around the younger man and kissing the top of his head.

"That was beautiful."

Don leant back into his embrace.

"How long were you there?"

"A while."

Don turned on the stool and placed a brief kiss to Mac's lips.

"Why did I never know about this?" Mac asked.

Don shrugged and stretched out his arms, cracking his knuckles, trying to be casual about being caught by Mac.

"It's not really who I am."

Mac watched the younger man in interest. He'd known Don Flack for many years now. He knew how he loved being a cop, that his life's aim was to make detective and prove to everyone he could hold his own. It was in his blood to fight for justice and bring the criminals of the city to trial. He also loved sports, it didn't even matter if it wasn't one he followed or he didn't know the rules. Mac had watched Don sit through an entire match of cricket, not really understanding what was happening but enjoying it all the same...and cricket went on for days. That had been a long week indeed, Mac smirked. Don also liked playing sports, hanging out with his mates, drinking in bars with them, playing xbox and even going to see a rare movie when he had time. Mac had never known Don to be particularly cultured until the revelation that he liked reading Classic novels and enjoyed the ballet. But still, apart from those two things Don never seemed interested in history or arts, theatre or music. In fact, the only creative thing Mac had ever known Don to actually physically do was to sing in the shower, and Mac had a sneaky suspicion that the younger detective loved to sing. Mac thought he knew everything about his fiancé but never, not even for a moment, had he ever entertained the idea that Don could play the piano, let alone as beautifully and enchantingly as he just had.

"I think it's exactly who you are," Mac smiled.

Don rubbed his hands over his thighs awkwardly and then looked up at Mac's smiling face. He seemed anxious.

"What do you mean?"

Mac took hold of one of Don's hands to stop him fidgeting with them as he so often did.

"I think you just love to play the tough detective. Witty, sarcastic, often charming but hard as nails. I think that anything creative or remotely beautiful like this you try to hide from everyone so you don't ruin that image."

Don blushed and looked down at his hand held in Mac's.

"It's not true. I haven't played in years."

"It is true. And I love this about you," Mac smiled.

"I'm not very good," Don shrugged.

"On the contrary, you're excellent. When did you learn?"

Don looked back up at him sadly. "My brother taught me."

Mac's smile faded somewhat and he watched his partner with interest. Don never spoke of his brother.

"Your brother taught you to play piano?"

Don nodded in confirmation. "While we were at school. I was terrible at music class. He helped me out so I wouldn't get bad grades."

Mac narrowed his eyes as he watched his lover in concern.

"You play beautifully, Don."

Don shrugged again. "It's not really me."

Mac sighed and wrapped his arms around the younger detective, standing between his legs and holding his head to his body.

"I love every part of you, Don. Even the parts you don't like. And I love that you can play the piano. And I love it's now our little secret. One of the things I know about you that no-one else does."

Don hugged him back and sighed in what Mac deemed as a happy tone.

"You won't tell anyone?"

Mac chuckled. "Not if you don't want me to. And only if you promise to play for me sometimes."

Don stood up and kissed Mac gently. "I promise."

"Good. Now where's Derry?"

Don smiled. "I've already spoken to him. Everything's sorted."

"Mmm," Mac sighed happily and hugged Don closer.

Don yawned tiredly and rested himself against Mac's strong body.

"You need to go home and get some sleep," Mac murmured.

"Don't want to move," Don mumbled.

Mac smiled and pushed Don off him and they made their way back out to the street, nodding to the barman as they left. Mac hailed a cab to take Don back to their apartment, concerned that the detective was too tired to take the subway.

"I need to get back to work, check everything is sorted before tomorrow," Mac commented still hesitant to leave.

"I'll see you later then," Don replied and leant down to kiss Mac, his lips lingered on the older man's and he felt Mac once more pulling him close. The kiss deepened, both men feeling something akin to love surge through their veins.

"I'm so excited about tomorrow," Mac murmured as they reluctantly broke apart and stared at each other. "I love you so much, Don."

"Me too," Don replied as he opened the cab door. "I can't wait to be your husband, Mac Taylor."

Mac smiled as he watched Don get into the cab and the vehicle pull away from he curb, taking his lover home. How he hoped the next twenty-four hours would speed by.

* * *

"So, Mr Messer, are you scared?" Jo asked, smiling knowingly at Danny from across her desk.

Danny frowned as he looked up from his computer. "Scared? What about?"

"A second child," Jo laughed. "And a boy."

Danny frowned even more, completely not understanding what she meant.

"Should I be?"

"Well I would be," Jo teased. "I mean, I thought Tyler was hard but then when I got Ellie, boy did that blow it all out of the water. Having two kids is difficult."

"This isn't working," Danny said shaking his head in amusement.

"And well I guess compared to Tyler, Ellie was pretty simple in some ways. I mean, Tyler was a boy and, Dear Lord, if boys aren't ten times worse than girls!" Jo grinned.

"Still not working," Danny sung as he went back to his work, typing on the keyboard.

"And when you put both together in one; a second child and a boy, well then you're sure in for some trouble."

Danny sighed and looked back over at Jo who had a huge smiled across her face.

"Doesn't matter," he shrugged. "Doesn't matter how difficult this kid might be cos he's a boy or cos he's the second one cos I got something you never had, my secret weapon."

"Oh," Jo asked. "And what might that be?"

"My wife," Danny grinned as his phone started ringing. "Excuse me."

He answered it as Mac appeared in the doorway.

"Mac, how was your lunch date?" Jo asked conversationally.

"Perfect," Mac smiled in memory.

Jo arched an eyebrow at him, he seemed different.

"Mac Taylor, what's got a hold of you today then?" she laughed.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he replied mysteriously.

"I think I could hazard a guess," Jo said knowingly. "How is Don?"

Mac looked slightly embarrassed and Jo chuckled to herself.

"Don's fine. Looking forward to tomorrow."

"As we all are, most of all you I'd imagine."

Danny grinned at them as he hung up his phone. "Why Mac, is that a little blush I see there?" he teased.

"Danny," Mac said sternly.

"And that's a yes," laughed Jo.

"If you two are finished," Mac said exasperatedly while the other two CSIs chuckled.

"Yeah. I gotta get going anyway. That was Lovato, got a scene over in the park."

"Oh the joys," Jo sighed.

"My thoughts exactly," Danny agreed. "I'll catch you guys later."

"See you," Jo smiled as he left the room with his kit.

"Take care, Danny," Mac nodded at him as he passed him by.

"Always do," chuckled the younger CSI.

"He seems happy," Jo remarked as they watched him go.

"I think he and Lindsay are finally starting to get used to all the changes in their lives and looking forward to this new baby," Mac replied as he came into the office and sat down in Danny's vacated seat.

"I do hope so," Jo said in concern.

"They'll be okay, and they have all of us around them if they need us," Mac said sincerely.

Jo nodded in agreement and then turned her head to look at him. "And what's up with you, Mac Taylor?"

"What do you mean?" Mac frowned.

"Your wedding," Jo smiled. "Tomorrow?"

"Oh," Mac laughed. "Can't wait."

"And have you told him yet?" Jo asked seriously.

Mac watched her for a moment. "I haven't found the right time."

Jo tutted at him. "Mac Taylor, you tell that boy what Sinclair said or I will. He deserves to know."

"I know," Mac sighed. "I just want to wait until after tomorrow. It'll ruin the day if I say anything now and we certainly don't need anything else fighting against us."

Jo smiled at him sympathetically. "And you're happy, Mac? Because that's all that matters when it comes down to it in this life."

Mac smiled at her. "I never felt so happy in my entire life, and that's the honest truth."

Jo nodded her head and felt pleased that her two friends were finally taking this step on with their lives. "I'm glad to hear that."

"It was always so simple, Jo. And I have no idea how it ended up being one of the most complicated, up and down relationships I have ever experienced. I love him. Plain and simple. And always have," Mac said quietly.

"Then you take tomorrow by the horns and you make sure it's the best god damn day of your life," Jo said excitedly. "And I'll make sure it's some shindig that you won't ever forget."

"Oh dear," Mac muttered quietly as he watched her bouncing in her seat enthusiastically.

* * *

Adam finished off his danish and then drained the last of his coffee. He loved it when he had a day off and he had tomorrow off as well for the wedding, although that did mean he'd have to work the day after it, possibly with a slight hangover. The others had all been sensible enough to book off the day of the wedding and the day after to get round that but he'd been too slow and had found he'd have to work by the time he realised. Still, it was nice having coffee with Lindsay and he appreciated the nice weather for once. He sighed as he stared at her cut up swirl and then turned round towards the entrance to the cafe's interior. Lindsay had been gone a long time, though he supposed pregnant women did take longer in the bathroom.

"Excuse me, can I get the bill," he asked a passing waiter who nodded and then disappeared inside.

Adam hummed as he waited patiently in the warm sum. Lindsay had been right, he and Michelle were getting serious and he had considered what their future might be together. He was nowhere near proposing, but the idea had briefly passed through his mind a few times. He thought of Lindsay and Danny, of the happy family they had and he knew he wanted that, just not quite yet, perhaps in a few years.

"Your bill, Sir," the waiter said, interrupting his thoughts as he placed it down on the table.

"Oh," Adam squeaked. "Do you accept cards?"

"Yes, we do but I'll need you to come inside to use the machine," the waited replied politely.

"Sure," Adam nodded as he got up and followed the waiter into the cafe.

It was difficult to get through the people and tables crowded inside and he tried his best to keep up with the waiter squashing past everyone.

"I don't know, I've been waiting to go for ten minutes. Come on, we can use the ones at work," he heard a female next to him say to her friend and then they started to push their way out of the cafe.

Adam frowned in confusion and then looked round at the toilets. He was suddenly aware that the people crowding inside were in some sort of panic. Something had happened and he could hear the faintest sounds of a siren approaching. All of a sudden he started to get a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach and began to push his way over to the toilets.

"Sir, if you could just stand back," yelled a concerned looking man at him who Adam was certain was the manager.

"But I'm looking for my fri..." Adam trailed off and stared in horror as the door to the toilet was pushed open by another member of staff exiting in a panic and he saw a figure collapsed on the floor.

"Lindsay!" Adam screamed as he pushed his way past the manager and rushed to the fallen woman's side.

She lay unconscious on the floor of the toilet surrounded by a pool of dark red blood that seemed to be ever growing.

"Lindsay!" Adam screamed again as he pressed his fingers to her neck, only finding the faintest of pulses. He looked round desperately trying to find the source of all the blood.

"Lindsay please!"

* * *

Mac hummed happily as he filed his last piece of paperwork away and switched off his computer. The day had gone well with no new cases cropping up apart from Danny's but Mac new the spiky haired CSI could handle it perfectly well with Jo's supervision and that he wasn't going to be needed for the next week. Not that he and Don had any plans for after their wedding, they'd decided against any type of typical honeymoon in favour of saving their money to buy their own place together. However they'd both still booked a week off work to simply spend some time with each other that didn't involve dead bodies or psychopathic criminals. Mac was very much looking forward to this time with Don as they had never spent a week off together in the whole time they'd known each other and as a surprise he'd bought tickets to see Romeo and Juliet by the New York City Ballet. He hoped that the mix of Shakespeare and ballet would be a wonderful present to Don to begin their married life with.

"You off, Mac?" Jo called to him as he made his way to the elevators.

"I certainly am," Mac smiled.

"Well good luck for tomorrow then and you tell that boy of yours good luck from me too," she laughed.

"I will, and thank you, Jo," Mac nodded. He stepped into the elevator as it arrived and waved her goodbye. As he exited on the ground level he saw the sun shining in from outside and made his way out of the building and into its warmth.

"Oh, Mac!" someone shouted behind him and he turned to see Sid quickly making his way over to him.

"Sid," Mac said in amusement at the older M.E. running.

"I just wanted to wish you all the best for tomorrow in case I don't see you beforehand," Sid said excitedly.

"That's kind, Sid. I appreciate that," Mac nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Sid said, looking pleased that he'd managed to catch Mac before he left.

"See you then," Mac replied and then he turned from the doctor and made his way up the street.

He sighed as he felt the sun's warm rays on his face and took out his sunglasses to protect his eyes. He was suddenly aware of a black car drawing up beside him and was immediately on guard.

"Mac!"

Mac turned to see Hawkes leaning out of the window.

"Hawkes," Mac frowned.

"I just saw you as I was going past. Tell Flack good luck from me," Hawkes shouted.

"I certainly will," Mac chuckled.

"And good luck to you too, I'm looking forward to it," Hawkes laughed.

"So am I," Mac shouted and then he turned back to the street and went on his way.

Once more his feelings of contentment and excitement from earlier in the day returned to him and he let out a sigh. It was true, he absolutely could not wait for the next day to come, the day when he would finally get to marry Don, to tell the world that the handsome young man was his and his alone and he was proud of that. Everything was ready, everything was set up and all he had to do was turn up with Don at City Hall at 11am the next day and within twenty minutes they would be married. Both he and Don had had their bachelor parties the week before, though Don had looked much more the worse for wear afterwards than he had himself. He could only imagine the type of things Danny and the others had got Don into when they'd taken him out. His own one had been a slightly more sedate affair, although Danny had still tried to force him into a lap dancing club. Mac chuckled at the younger man's antics. He loved Danny, he really did and he was so excited for him to become a father for the second time. He let his thoughts drift back to Don as he thought of the one person he did truly and utterly love. He smiled as he thought what Don would be getting up to now. He'd have got home after being at McTiers and showered and changed, Don hated going to bed still covered in the grime and sweat from the day and was obsessed with stinking of corpses if he'd been at a scene. Mac thought that was funny. Then Don would have slept for a few hours, he might even still be asleep right at that moment but Mac decided to give him a call anyway. He turned into a quiet park that he liked to stroll through if he was walking home as he pressed one on his speedial and held the phone to his ear smiling and waiting for Don's sleepy voice. The sickening crack of the back of his head as something large and heavy struck against it had him stumbling forward onto the ground.

"Noooo..." he gasped in a panic as he grappled uselessly, trying to right himself.

He felt another blow to his head, heard the sickening crunch of his skull as the hard material struck it and he fell flat.

"No, please..." he pleaded, desperation gnawing at his soul. This couldn't happen now, not today, not when he was less than twenty-four hours away from marrying Don.

His vision started to blur as he shifted his eyes skyward and saw a dark shape loom over him.

Then the world went black.

* * *

A/N – No flashbacks :(


	11. Chapter 11

A/N - So I promised Kates89 I would update quickly so you have her to thank, (though I can't promise I will do the same after this chapter...) and also for actually making me even put this chapter up cos I was almost too scared to and then you'd have no more story to read!

**WARNING **– Last warning here, this chapter is upsetting, rather graphic and not very pleasant. If you read on then you've had two warnings now so it's up to you. Though I can tell you this, if you feel depressed at the end, it won't be half as depressed as I felt writing it.

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Eleven**

Mac slowly began to wake up from the darkness that he was so comfortably bathed in. It had been secure and warm and the harsh reality of the past few hours suddenly slammed into him like a truck on the highway. Pain erupted in the back of his head from where he'd been hit and he blinked once...twice before he could make out some blurry images. He tried to move but realised he couldn't. Looking down he blinked again and saw that he was tied to a chair, arms fastened to the rests and duct tape wound round his body and the chair numerous times. He struggled against the bindings but they stuck fast and he gave up his futile attempts to get free. Looking up the blurry shapes slowly started to come into focus. The sight before him made him sick to his stomach and he retched. There, in front of him, were Danny and Don knelt side by side on the filthy ground, their arms behind their backs, presumably bound in some way and a piece of tape covering their mouths. Mac felt fear grip at his heart, his breath coming in short sharp gasps. As far as he'd been aware, Don should have been back at their apartment and Danny had been on his way to a scene. What the hell had happened to them? He noticed both men were looking straight at him in concern.

"Don, are you okay?" Mac asked worriedly, looking the tall detective over for any sign of injury.

Don slowly nodded, speaking with his blue eyes that Mac knew so well. The older man could tell the detective was nervous but otherwise alright, despite the fact his forehead was caked with dried blood, most likely from a wound he received in order for him to have been transported here.

"Good." Mac looked over at Danny who had dried blood down the side of his head and neck. Mac felt anger erupt within him as he realised both his loved ones had been injured for them to be brought here. Mac knew then that he would kill whoever had done this to them.

"Danny, are you okay?" Mac asked and Danny too, nodded his head though his blue eyes glistened with something that might have been fear crossed with anger.

"I'll get us out of here," Mac told them. "I promise you..."

A noise behind him made him quickly stop his talking and then a voice spoke to him over his shoulder.

"Mac Taylor. So you're awake."

Mac didn't need to see the man to know exactly who he was.

"Andy."

"Right again, Mac. Is there anything you ever get wrong?"

Andy came fully into Mac's line of vision and the tied detective could see he was holding a gun in one hand. The room they were in was most likely a small basement of a house, there were no windows and the only light shone down at them from a small bulb in the centre of the room. It made a constant buzzing sound and flickered every so often. Behind Don and Danny was a small table on which some sort of metal instruments were set out, but Mac couldn't see clearly what they were.

"By the way, I'm not expecting you to answer that, Mac. We both know you get things wrong...a lot!" shouted Andy.

Mac stared at the young man before him. Prison had clearly not suited him. Gone was the clean cut, intelligent, calculating and patient man he'd last met. Instead stood a crazed, maniacal man whose eyes gleamed with power, with thirst for revenge. Last time they'd met Mac had seen a small hope of talking Andy down, of perhaps saving him from becoming a murderer. Mac could see immediately that this time there was no hope of that. Whomever he had met during his time inside had convinced him otherwise and now Andy had the chance to kill again, revenge well within his grasp. Mac knew that if he wasn't careful, all three of them would be leaving the place in body bags.

"Andy, what do you want?" he asked slowly. If he couldn't talk Andy down then his only chance was to delay whatever plans he had until they were rescued.

"What do I...what do I want?" laughed Andy and waved the gun he was holding around. "I'll tell you what I want, Mac. I want to prove to the world once and for all that you aren't the hero that everyone thinks you are. I want to get revenge for the deaths of my brothers. I want you to pay for destroying my family!"

Andy was insane. He screamed his words out in twisted pain. His mind closed off to logic and reason. He paced wildly up and down behind the two kneeling men and Mac tried hard not to flinch every time the gun came close to one of their heads. Suddenly the word Andy had used came to the forefront of Mac's mind. _Brothers..._ What had happened to Jimmie? He'd been alive as far as he'd known? But then he'd never tried to find him after Andy had gone away, never tried to contact him. But Sinclair had said...he'd said that they were watching Jimmie Davis. Mac frowned as Sinclair's actual words hit him with full impact. No, Sinclair had said they were watching his known associates, no mention of a brother.

"Brothers?" Mac asked, frowning slightly.

"Oh that's right. You don't know, do you?" Andy laughed. "Jimmie's dead. Hung himself after I was sentenced to life."

Mac's eyes widened in shock. "Jimmie killed himself?"

"That's right. In his note he said he felt he was to blame for Will's death and subsequently for me going to jail. But we all know who's really to blame here, don't we, Mac?"

Mac glanced down as he tried to take in this information. Jimmie had killed himself over the guilt of one brother dying and the other going to jail. All of this over what happened with Bobby Toole that fateful night in Chicago, all those years ago."

"I'm sorry Jimmie is dead. He was a friend..."

"No he wasn't!" screamed Andy before Mac could finish his sentence. "Don't you dare say that to me. Don't you dare say Jimmie was your friend...that you cared about him. If you'd cared about either of my brothers you would have pulled the trigger!"

"Andy, I was a kid. We all were. That whole situation was way out of our depths!"

"You should have pulled the trigger, Mac," Andy wheezed, his eyes glistening with tears. "I've lost everything because of you. Everyone I ever loved."

Mac swallowed as he finally understood what they were all doing there, not that he'd really been in any doubt beforehand.

"Andy, these two men have nothing to do with what happened that night. Just let them go, they've done nothing to hurt you."

Andy glanced briefly at Danny and Don and then started laughing maniacally. That laughter pierced straight to Mac's soul and he knew then that there was no way they'd all be getting out of this alive. Andy was no longer himself, the little boy he'd known back in Chicago...even the man he'd met a few years ago...they were both gone, dead. Instead he was facing a lunatic who would never be at peace until he'd felt he'd avenged his brothers' deaths.

"On the contrary, Mac. These two are guilty of committing the worst crime imaginable. They believe you're a hero. They've been taken in by your lies. And now they will pay for loving you, Mac Taylor!"

Andy slowly stroked the tip of his gun along Danny's cheek and Mac saw the younger man flinch. He locked eyes with Don and could see the detective was planning to jump at Andy, hoping to knock the weapon from his hands before anyone was killed. Mac slowly shook his head at Don, looking him firmly in the eye. None of them had their hands free and even if Don could knock Andy to the ground, the crazed man would soon be able to overpower a bound Don and most likely kill him.

"You're argument is with me, Andy. I was the one there that night, the one who was unable to pull the trigger, so just let them go."

Mac hated to admit defeat, he knew that the deaths of Jimmie and Will weren't his fault, that even if he had pulled the trigger there was still a large chance that Will would have died anyway. But he needed to try something...anything otherwise Andy would kill both Danny and Don.

Andy grinned at Mac and then went over to Don, stroking over his head with a hand before suddenly yanking it back by his hair.

"I've never found men attractive, Mac," Andy said, suddenly serious, all the crazed laughter from earlier gone. "Unfortunately when you're in jail you don't really get a choice." Andy ghosted the tip of his gun across Don's stretched neck. "You see I've done my research, Mac. I know all about whom and what you find dear in life."

Mac's brain began to race into action. Andy must have been watching him, or had someone else watching for him. He obviously knew about him and Don, knew they were lovers and that scared Mac more than anything.

"I know that this one..." he yanked Don's head still back further and the tall detective let out a muffled cry. "You love this one."

Andy looked up at Mac and the detective saw the maniacal pleasure in Andy's eyes. The crazed man knew he was right and it excited him somehow. He dropped Don's head and went back over to Danny, grabbing his head and forcing it back in the same fashion as he'd done to Don.

"And this one...well, he's the son you always wanted, isn't he?"

Once again, Andy smiled with pleasure at knowing he was right. Mac felt sick in his stomach, Andy knew things about him, had been watching him and most likely Don and Danny too. They were going to die because of something he'd done, or hadn't done as the case may be, long before he'd ever met either of them. He was going to get them killed and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Andy, please. These men are innocent. I'm the one responsible. You're right, I should have just pulled the trigger but I was scared!"

Andy let go of Danny's head and blinked at Mac, almost surprised that the detective had finally admitted he was to blame. And then his face turned into a snarl.

"It's too little, too late, Mac. Jimmie and Will are dead. You need to learn that your actions have consequences. Because of you, I lost my family. So now, you'll lose yours too...an eye for an eye!" he shouted. He pointed the gun to the back of Danny's head and his finger started to squeeze the trigger.

"Wait, stop!" shouted Mac , blinded by panic. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't shoot Bobby Toole. But don't you think I haven't replayed that moment over and over again in my mind? Wishing to God that I'd just pulled the damn trigger? If I could go back in time, I would. I'd do it a thousand times because Will was my friend and so was Jimmie. And I'm sorry that they're dead but killing these men won't bring them back, Andy!"

Andy released the trigger but didn't move the gun away from the back of Danny's head. He slowly mulled over what Mac had said.

"You're right, Mac," he finally said and Mac blew a sigh of relief. "It won't bring either of my brothers back, but it will sure as hell make me feel better...and right now that's all I've got left!"

"Please, Andy. Please don't kill them," Mac begged desperately.

Andy grinned at Mac's desperation. "I have to, Mac. They need to die. One for Will, one for Jimmie. I mean, one of them has already been living on borrowed time, hasn't he? After all, which one of your team was it who was first through that door six years ago? If Jimmie hadn't been there...which one of your family would have taken that bullet?"

Mac's eyes glazed over as he was transported back into that desolate tube station he'd been trapped in. He remembered Andy on the phone with Jimmie...and then suddenly he could hear Jimmie's voice too. Jimmie had been there in the station, he'd come through that door and been shot at point blank range. He would have died instantly if it hadn't been for the vest he'd been wearing and even then he'd been lucky. Mac remembered he'd used the momentary distraction to shoot Andy, disabling him enough for him to be taken down and cuffed. By the time he'd refocused on the other people in the room, Stella, Don and Danny were all already beside him. Mac squeezed his eyes closed in an effort to remember more. Jimmie had been shot first and then Andy had, as he'd rushed to his brother's side. Mac had jumped up and shot him again as someone had run into the room pointing a gun at Andy. Who had it been? Stella, Don or Danny? It had been one of them. It had been...it had been...Don. Don had been first into the room. Don would have taken that bullet. Don should have been killed that day.

Mac's eyes fluttered open and immediately settled upon the tall detective kneeling before him. Tears blossomed in Mac's eyes as he imagined his life had Don been killed that day six years ago. Mac remembered being so grateful to Don for everything he'd done for him during the 333 case, even though there had still been so much tension between them. For following him to Chicago, for not judging him when he'd told him the story of Will's death, for being clever enough to bring Jimmie down to New York, ultimately saving both their lives. After Mac had got home that evening Don had turned up at his apartment, wanting to check that he was okay after the gruelling events of the day. Mac had simply been so happy to see Don that in a moment of weakness he'd kissed the younger man, forgetting that they were no longer together. It had only lasted mere seconds and Mac had apologised straight away afterwards. He didn't want to use Don again like that, no matter how much he wanted the younger man. They'd ended up fucking anyway, Mac remembered, and Don had joked that perhaps the best way to end a relationship as fucked up as theirs was, was to fuck. He'd laughed at that. Don always had this uncanny ability to make him laugh, to cheer him up even in the darkest of times, that was one of the reasons why he loved him so much. That night Don had told him he'd always love him, but that he needed to move on for his own sanity, that he thought he might have something with Angell. Mac had told him to go for it, that if he had a chance at happiness he should take it. Mac briefly wondered now that if he hadn't said that, that if he'd fought for the detective whether he might have been spared the pain of losing Jess.

Mac was brought swiftly out of his thoughts when Andy moved away from Danny and repositioned himself behind Don, gun pointing to his the back of his head.

"So I see it was this one who was first through the door. This one who's been living on borrowed time all these years?"

"No-one should have been killed. It went as it was meant to," Mac shouted, desperate to save Don.

"He should have died!" screamed Andy.

"No he shouldn't. No-one should have died...and no-one should today. There's been enough death already, Andy. Will wouldn't want this, Jimmie wouldn't want this...they wouldn't want you killing in their name!"

"Don't tell me what they would have wanted! You killed them!" Andy shrieked. The maniacal look was back in his eyes and Mac was gripped with fear that Don might be killed at any moment. The raven haired man was trembling in fear on the ground and Mac wished he could tell him it was going to be alright, wished he could hold him. Next to him Danny was suffering too, he kept glancing at Don out of the corner of his eye and Mac could tell he wanted to do something to stop this, but wasn't sure what.

"I didn't kill them, Andy," Mac reasoned. "I wasn't even there when Jimmie died. I'm sorry he killed himself and I'm sorry you never got to say goodbye to him but it had nothing to do with me. He killed himself because he lost you, because you went to jail. If anyone's to blame for his death it's you!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" screamed Andy and he walked past Don towards Mac and whacked him round the side of his face with the butt of his gun. Mac felt dazed, he felt sick and he slumped in his chair, trying to cling on to consciousness. He was afraid that if he lost it, then he'd wake up to see both Danny and Don dead on the ground, brains blown out of the back of their heads.

"I didn't kill him, I didn't," Andy was muttering over and over to himself. "It wasn't me...it wasn't..."

Mac managed to right himself and, ignoring Andy for the time being, he locked eyes first with Danny and then with Don to check they were still okay. He could tell that this time both men were petrified and he attempted to smile, to give them some hope but he doubted he was convincing at all.

Andy was once more in his vision and glaring at him. "I didn't kill him, Mac," he whispered. He sounded haunted, like he knew Mac was right but couldn't admit it. "But I'm a reasonable man. I accept when I've made a mistake and you might be right. You didn't make Jimmie kill himself. You weren't there. I want more than anything to blame you...but...I just can't."

Mac was suddenly aware he'd been holding his breath and blew out a sigh. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to get through to Andy. He hoped Jo was on her way by now with the cavalry.

"Thank you, Andy," Mac choked. He had to keep the crazed man pleased.

Andy grinned at him. "That's alright, Mac. But you're still to blame for Will's death. So here's what's going to happen. I'm only going to kill one of them, and you get to chose which one."

Mac stared in horror as Andy started laughing. Don was still trembling as he knelt on the cold, hard floor and Mac noticed a tear run down Danny's right cheek. Despite them both being cops, despite them both having trained for situations like this, they were both being badly affected by Andy's torment of them. Hell, Mac knew if he was being affected this badly then what Don and Danny were experiencing must be at least ten times worse.

"There's no way in hell I'm making that decision," Mac ground out flatly.

Andy just grinned at him. "Oh I think you'll make it," he laughed. "Now which one will it be? Your son? Or your lover?"

"I'd rather die myself than chose one of them to die, and nothing you can do will make me," Mac stated.

"Oh, I can be quite persuasive when I want to be, Mac," Andy smiled. "I learnt a few useful things during my time inside."

He moved swiftly to stand behind Don and Danny again and tucked his gun into the back of his jeans. He picked a silver object up from the small table and twirled it in his hands. Mac realised it was a long knife.

"You see, one of these men will die here today...but the other one will live. He'll go back to his little life, fighting crime and existing as one of your puppets."

Mac grimaced at Andy. He didn't like where this was heading.

"To help you make the decision, Mac, I will hurt them."

Mac saw both Don and Danny's blue eyes widen as Andy spoke and Mac felt anger surge through his body. He wanted to kill Andy, he wanted to rip that smiling bastard limb from limb.

"The longer you take to decide, the more I will hurt them until whichever one is left alive, will barely have any life to go back to," Andy stated and then he laughed again and all three men felt a shiver run down their spines.

"Let's start with this one shall we?" Andy said pleasantly as he moved behind Danny. "Danny Messer, the man you consider to be your son." he hissed.

"Andy, don't do this," Mac tried, in an attempt to reason with a lunatic.

"You will not speak!" screamed Andy. "Unless you've made up your mind I don't want to hear from you!"

"Andy..." Mac tried again.

"Enough!" shouted Andy threateningly. Then he stared down at Danny. "Hmmm, what shall we do to you?"

Danny trembled underneath Andy's gaze and another tear rolled down his cheek.

"I believe you were paralysed once," Andy whispered tauntingly at Danny.

Mac glared angrily at Andy. He knew more than he'd given him credit for and that pissed him off no end.

"How'd you like to be in that chair again?" smirked Andy. Danny trembled again violently and his tears flowed more freely. He cried out behind the duct tape covering his mouth which only caused Andy to laugh harder.

"I believe if you get it just right..." he placed the tip of his blade against Danny's spine. "Then you can sever the nerve fibres of the spinothalamic tract making paralysis in one half of the body permanent."

Danny's cries became louder and Mac could bear it no longer. "Andy, stop it. Don't do this," he pleaded.

Andy didn't hesitate. He plunged the knife into Danny's spine and the younger man screamed behind the tape. Mac had to look away. He couldn't bear to see what was being done to Danny...to his son. Danny screamed again as Andy stood over him and twisted the knife around, causing as much damage as possible. Danny collapsed onto the floor in front of him, the pain causing him to lose consciousness.

Mac opened his eyes and took in the unconscious form of Danny on the ground, knife sticking out of his back before looking at Don who was staring at Danny, shaking in fear.

"And what can we do to this one?" Andy laughed as he picked up another knife from the table and moved behind Don. "To the great and mighty Don Flack. Blue blood by birth, son of a legend cop, top of his class, made detective before any other his age..." Andy grinned and Mac was all too painfully aware of how much research he must have done on all of them.

"Can't be a cop now without your fingers," Andy laughed and he bent down behind Don's back and a moment later Mac heard his lover's muffled cries as he screamed in pain. One by one, Andy sliced off all ten digits and threw them over Don's shoulder where they landed on the ground in front of Mac.

"Stop it! Stop it, Andy!" screamed Mac, losing his battle to try and stay calm, to try and talk his way out of this.

Andy stopped and looked up at Mac. "Have you decided?" he asked.

Mac simply stared at him, tears in his eyes as he looked over at his two tortured friends.

"Very well, we continue," snarled Andy as he went back over to Danny and pulled him up from the ground, balancing him back on his knees and then slapping him awake. "Your turn again," Andy laughed. He plunged his knife it into the base of Danny's spine, twisting and turning it roughly and enjoying the screams of agony coming from behind Danny's taped mouth.

"Anything?" Andy asked as he looked over at Mac who was almost staring dumbly at the scene playing out before him. "So be it."

Andy picked up a third knife and walked back over to Don, grabbing his hair again pulling back his head. "What else doesn't a cop need? I'm not sure he needs two ears..." he laughed and quickly sliced off Don's right ear, which fell pathetically to the floor beside him. Don screamed in agony behind the tape, he too was crying now, face covered in blood and tears as his handsome features were slowly removed. "Oh what the hell," laughed Andy as he trailed the knife down to Don's right cheek, slicing the flesh from it in one go. The thick lump of tissue fell to the floor nearby to the ear and Mac stared in horror at the gaping, bloody hole left in Don's face, bone now visible. The detective was teetering where he knelt and Mac felt sure he too was going to lose consciousness.

Mac could tell Andy was starting to enjoy this now. He'd had a taste for blood and wanted more. The only way to stop him was to choose between Danny and Don. Choose one of them to die but he couldn't do that. He couldn't lose his son or his fiancé.

"Decided yet?" Andy asked coldly. "Because there's plenty more I can cut off. I think I'll remove his pretty blue eyes next, and then his nose and then his tongue. And then I'll do the same to Danny over there. You don't make a decision soon, Mac, and you'll be left with two paralysed, deaf mutes, who can't see or write or communicate with you in any way. Essentially vegetables that will have to have round the clock care. Locked in their own heads with the memory of you doing this to them, of you causing this. Will you care for them, Mac? Will you be by their side twenty-four hours a day for the rest of your life? Because they won't even know if you are."

Mac retched as he felt a wave of nausea hit him. He needed to make a decision before the two people he cared about most in the world died. Don and Danny were going to die, or their lives would be destroyed beyond recognition. Already both of them were likely to lose their jobs if Danny was truly paralysed and now that Don had been mutilated to such an extent he wouldn't be able to handle a firearm. Mac looked between them, at their tear filled blue eyes, at their trembling bodies and was helpless to do anything. Danny looked away from him, perhaps already hating him. Blood had pooled around his knees, no doubt coming from the two wounds in his back and Mac knew it was likely he'd bleed out before Andy had finished torturing him. In a way this was worse for Danny because he was living his worst nightmare all over again. Being paralysed the first time round had nearly destroyed the young man and Mac dreaded to think what it would do to him a second time, especially if it was permanent. On the other hand Don lived for being a cop, there was nothing else he enjoyed more. He'd lost his parents, Jess and had had a rough time of it recently with his kidnapping and beating. Now here he was again, kidnapped and likely to lose his profession, to no longer be able to be a cop, and Mac knew that would kill him. Mac glanced over Don and briefly exhaled as he realised Don was wearing that blue sweater he'd worn the day he'd been kidnapped and the day he'd been beaten by the cops. Mac had completely forgotten to tell him not to wear it, that it was bad luck and it looked as though his theory was now being proven correct. Unlike Danny, Don was staring directly at him, desperate to keep eye contact and when Mac looked at him he knew exactly what Don was saying to him. 'I love you."

"I tell you what," Andy spoke, voice echoing around Mac. Mac noticed he'd put down the knife and a different gun was now in his hand. A Lupara. "I'll make this easy for you. Instead of choosing who should die, I'll let one of them go. I'll drop him outside the hospital and he can get help and heal."

"Condemning the other one to die," Mac said bitterly, as though this choice was any better.

"On the contrary. When I return perhaps we can come to some other arrangement. After all it is you I have my quarrel with, not them," Andy stated. "And at the moment it seems to be them taking all of the pain when perhaps you deserve some too. I think they'd both enjoy to see you being tortured, Mac."

Mac glared at him. As if this was some picnic for him. The sight of his son and his fiancé being mutilated in front of him was worse than death. And Mac knew that even if Danny and Don might be able to forgive him for this one day, he'd never be able to forgive himself. Andy had already successfully ruined any bond he might have shared with the two men; there was no need to take this further.

"Look Andy, you've already destroyed whatever love I shared with these men. You think Danny and I will be able to go back to playing happy families after this? Or that Don and I will be able to get married and live happily ever after? You've achieved what you wanted, ruined my life so just let it go. Let them go."

Andy glared at him in rage. "Decide now or I blow his head off," he screamed, pointing the Lupara at Don.

Mac's eyes widened. He could see Andy's finger slowly squeezing the trigger. He had to think fast. Perhaps if one of them got out alive he could at least reason with Andy to ensure the safety of the other one. Plus, in the time it took him to drive one of them to the hospital, Jo might arrive with the rescue squad. Either that or Andy might be seen at the hospital and apprehended. If he didn't do something Don would have his brains blown out in approximately ten seconds. Mac quickly assessed the situation. Danny was bleeding badly from two knife wounds, he couldn't afford to lose much more blood or he'd die. Don was bleeding badly from his ear, cheek and presumably his fingers too but there wasn't as much blood surrounding him. Danny had a small child, a pregnant wife, a baby on the way and they would need him to support their family, to care for them. Don had his sister and grandma who both relied heavily on him. He also had him, Mac, and Mac loved him more than life itself and would gladly exchange places with him in a heartbeat to save him from suffering. If Mac loved either man more, it was Don. He loved Don the most. Mac had reached his answer.

"Stop," he screamed and Andy moved the gun away from Don's head. "Save Danny. Take Danny to the hospital," Mac cried, tears falling from his eyes. He couldn't bear to look at Don. He knew the younger man would understand, would know the reasoning behind his choice, that Danny was the worst injured, that he had a pregnant wife and a small child who needed him, but still...Mac couldn't look at him. He couldn't bear to see the hurt and betrayal that was no doubt reflected in his lover's eyes. He couldn't bear to see the knowledge on Don's face that he'd chosen Danny over him, that he loved Danny more than him, even if it wasn't true and he'd made his decision based purely on logic, not emotion.

"So you want Danny to be set free?" Andy asked, smile wide and leering. "So be it."

Mac locked eyes with Andy for a second and then the crazed man moved quickly before he could even shout out. Mac screamed as the trigger was pulled and a loud bang echoed round the room. He was blinded by tears and shut his eyes against them as he heard the sound of a body thumping heavily to the floor. His ears were ringing from the shot and then muffled screaming and a maniacal laughter slowly began to replace it. He realised his own mouth was releasing a scream too and he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. To face his worst nightmare come true.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he prised his eyes apart and stared at the body lying on the ground before him.

Cold, lifeless blue eyes stared back at him.


	12. Chapter 12

Big thanks to reviewers. This chapter isn't graphic but it is upsetting. Hope you've got your hankies ready.

* * *

**Israel – Chapter Twelve**

Mac let out a howl of anguish as tears poured from his eyes. He blinked and then blinked again, hoping the sight in front of him was just a trick, that any moment now the dead man in front of him would get up and start walking around. But that didn't happen. The muffled cries and tortured sobs that reached his ears only confirmed what he was seeing. Don Flack was dead. And nothing would ever be the same again.

"NO!" Mac screamed as he struggled against his bonds, wanting desperately to be by Don's side. To pour his own life into the young man. Into the man he loved.

"NOOOO!" he screamed again and struggled even harder causing his own arms to bleed where the tape rubbed and cut into his flesh.

Mac struggled so violently that his chair fell to the ground with a crash and all of a sudden the scene swam before his eyes. He hadn't really been there at all. He hadn't been there. Don was alive, he had to be. Don was alive. It had just been a dream, a tortuous, convoluted dream that made his blood run cold with fear.

_The next thing he knew he was sat in his office...in his old office back at the previous, slightly run-down lab and a strange, rather gorkish young man was staring at him over his desk, fidgeting nervously with his hands._

_"May I help you?" Mac asked wearily. He was tired of being continually bothered by strangers who seemed intent on disturbing his peace. Not that he got much now, not after what happened to Claire..._

_"My name's Don Flack...err, Detective. I was sent here..."_

_"You're the new liaison with homicide?" Mac asked frostily, eyeing the man before him._

_He was tall, too tall in fact. Definitely over six foot if Mac had to guess. It looked like he'd suffered from a growth spurt at some stage in his life and had never really filled out to support his height. This gave him a gangly, lanky appearance that made him seem vulnerable. Not the stocky brawn that Mac was normally used to dealing with. He had a mop of dark hair spouting from his head; too much hair and Mac wondered if this man knew the 1970s had ended nearly two and a half decades ago. He'd not seen sideburns like that since he was a young man. A thin moustache adorned his top lip making him look like one of those stereotypical French men with the stripy shirts and berets. Mac supposed that maybe growing a certain amount of facial hair was this man's way of telling the world he had actually finished puberty, because to Mac, he still looked about sixteen. He was eager, that much was apparent and that often led to carelessness. It all seemed a bit of joke now that he thought about it. Those bastards over at the precinct probably thought it a great laugh to send over the new boy to work for the geeks at the lab. But Mac wasn't going to put up with that, he'd have words with the Chief tomorrow. He stared over the detective's clothing. An ill-fitting shirt and mismatched tie, trying to look grown up, Mac mused. And a leather jacket to make him look tougher than he probably was. It was only then Mac noticed his piercing blue eyes and in that moment he was left without any doubt that this lanky, enthusiastic young man would make a fine detective one day. He had the fire in his eyes._

_"Yeah. Just been assigned..." the kid was mumbling._

_"How long have you been a detective, Kid?"_

_"I passed my exam in July so..."_

_"Two months," Mac nodded. "How old are you?"_

_"Twenty four."_

_"Young," Mac mused. "What did you say your name was?"_

_"Flack...Sir."_

_"Don't call me Sir. You any relation to..."_

_"Yes Ss... yes, my father."_

_"I see. Well you certainly have a lot to live up to then."_

_"I do. And I will."_

_"Very well. You'll do," Mac nodded dismissively and then looked back down at his paperwork. After a while, when he realised the young man was still there, he looked back up at him. "Something else I can help you with, Flack?"_

_"Oh, sorry, no Sir...I mean, no. Just no."_

_For the first time in a very long time, probably since Claire died, Mac actually found himself smiling at the young man's awkwardness. His shy smile and flushed cheeks were endearing. Mac frowned quickly as he wondered what on Earth he was doing, thinking that this incredibly young, male detective was endearing._

_"You can go, Flack," Mac nodded, gesturing to the door with his eyes._

_"Right. Catch you later."_

_Flack moved towards the door and as he pulled it open Mac called back to him. "Flack?"_

_"Yes Si..?" Flack blushed again and Mac smiled...again._

_"Try not to be so nervous. I'm not going to eat you."_

_Flack nodded, blushing redder and then he disappeared from the office. Mac was still smirking when Stella came in a moment later._

_"Who was that, Mac? I...Mac Taylor, is that a smile I see on your face?" she asked in shock._

_Mac immediately relaxed his face. "Stella..." he said warningly but she just smiled at him knowingly, one eyebrow raised, and then turned to watch the dark haired detective make his way out of the lab._

_"He is handsome," she said and tilted her head to one side, admiring the view._

_Behind her, Mac caught himself doing the same._

_Mac blinked tears from his eyes and discovered he was now in a bar, it was near closing time and they were the only people there. Soft music was playing in the background and the lights were dimmed, as though the staff were encouraging the patrons to go home for the night. Mac glanced down at his watch and noticed it was almost midnight._

_"Here we go."_

_Mac looked up to see Don setting down two pints on the table in front of them and then collapsing heavily into his seat. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, tie removed and shades hung over his collar. Don had looked good in his shades today, Mac thought. He smiled when the younger man grinned enthusiastically at him._

_"Gotta drink these quick, Mac. They wanna shut up shop as soon as we've gone."_

_"I'm surprised they let us have these," Mac stated._

_"I flashed them my badge," Don shrugged while Mac eyed him with a slight look of amusement on his face._

_"So," Don sighed as he leant back in his chair and smiled happily at Mac. "Another day, another murder, huh? That brain matter cooking on the sidewalk was revolting."_

_"I didn't come here to talk about work, Don."_

_"Oh, right." Don drummed his fingers on the table and a slight awkwardness sat between the two men. "Hawkes is looking up to be a good CSI," Don said cheerfully, supping on his pint._

_Mac watched the younger man carefully. "I didn't come here to talk about Hawkes either."_

_Don stared at him for a while. Mac had an inkling that the other man didn't really know what to say. It wasn't often that they socialised. In fact, it had only been since Mac had been on a date with Rose that he'd started getting friendlier with the young detective. They'd known each other for roughly three years now and with each passing day Mac had found himself growing closer to Don while at the same time trying to keep as much of a distance between them as possible. It had only been after his second date with Rose that he realised he was kidding himself. Yes, he'd been correct...he was ready...it was time for him to finally start dating again, but not with just any old person. He knew exactly who he wanted. _

_"I think you know why I came here, Don," Mac stated, studying Don for a reaction._

_Don swallowed nervously and clutched at his pint. It was nearly empty, unlike Mac's which was almost full. He stared at Mac with wide blue eyes that looked scared._

_"We'll go slow," Mac said softly and then gave the detective a rare smile._

_Don grinned at him._

_Mac's vision swam again and all of a sudden he found himself outside on the sidewalk. The night air was warm and the street was relatively deserted; only a few people passed him by, on their way to some unknown place. Mac smiled up at the man beside him. Don. He and Don were on their way to grab a drink after a tiring day at work. Don was grinning at him happily and Mac smiled._

_"I enjoyed today," Don murmured._

_"Enjoyed?" Mac frowned, an eyebrow raised questioningly._

_"Yeah. You know, like helping you guys with the experiments. It was fun."_

_Mac suddenly stopped walking and Don turned back round to stare at him._

_"What?" he asked._

_"Don, are you telling me that you actually enjoyed our 'science squad stuff'?"_

_Don blushed slightly. "Well yeah. It was pretty cool, finding out that guy made his own gun. What a nutter. The things these people think of!"_

_"So science is cool?" Mac smiled as he continued walking. "High praise indeed."_

_Don grinned again and tilted his head to one side. "Don't let it go to your head," he joked._

_"You continually surprise me, Don," Mac laughed gently._

_"That's not a bad thing. You're obviously rubbing off on me, Mac."_

_"Hmm?" Mac hummed questioningly._

_Don grinned. "Mac Taylor, man of mystery. No-one ever knows what you're thinking," Don stated matter-of-factly._

_Mac suddenly stopped walking and grabbed hold of Don's arm. Don turned to him in surprise, but before he could speak Mac leant up and kissed him. He raised one hand, to gently cup the back of the taller man's head and ran his fingers through the soft, dark hair. His other hand remained holding Don's arm tight, afraid that if he loosened his grip, Don might leave him. Don's lips were soft and moist and he tasted somewhat salty from the day. Salty and something else, something that was inherently Don, Mac guessed. Suddenly it occurred to Mac that this kiss was one-sided, Don wasn't kissing back. Mac's stomach lurched and he started to pull away, dread filling him. Oh God, what had he done?! Then he felt Don's lips move, Don was slowly kissing him back! Don's hands were moving to his waist and gripping him there, pulling him close. Mac kissed Don harder, enjoying the feeling, the taste, all the sensations flowing through his body like an electrical current._

_He pulled away smiling and looked into Don's eyes. There was no fear there, only joy and perhaps a tinge of excitement. Mac coughed and turned back to the sidewalk, continuing to walk along it. Don was beside him, still walking with him in silence. He heard the younger man sigh in contentment._

_"So was that enough of a surprise for you?" Mac asked quietly after some time._

_"For now," Don replied._

_Mac chuckled and they continued walking in ease together._

_Mac suddenly found himself on the couch in his apartment. The lights were off but the apartment was still brightly lit by the moonlight. Four empty bottles of beer sat on the coffee table in front of him and a fifth was clutched in his hand. He could feel his head spinning and an anger burning in his gut. A knock on his door brought him out of his stupor and he stumbled to the door and opened it roughly. Don._

_"Mac."_

_"Come in."_

_Don crossed the threshold into Mac's apartment and looked around in interest. Mac watched through clouded vision as Don's eyes wandered round the apartment, taking in every item, every object that Mac considered of value in his life. They settled on a photo of him and Claire from their wedding day._

_"Why'd you call me, Mac?" he sighed heavily, eyes never leaving the picture._

_"Wanted to check you were okay," Mac murmured as he stepped closer to Don. "And I didn't want to be alone."_

_He reached out with his free hand to pull Don's chin so that the young man's gaze transferred from the photo to his face. He leant in and captured his lips in a small kiss. He heard Don moan._

_Don glanced at the bottle in his hand when they broke apart. "I could get drunk from you," he murmured, licking his lips._

_Mac smiled and placed the bottle down on the side. It was only then that he realised Don wasn't wearing a suit. At some point he'd obviously changed into jeans and a tee. A navy sweater was tied loosely round his waist._

_"It wasn't cold out?" he asked._

_"No. But I don't think you invited me round to chat about the weather." Don said knowingly._

_Mac shook his head and then walked past Don to collapse back onto his couch. He leant forward and placed his head in his hands._

_"The case really got to you?" Don asked, already knowing the answer was yes._

_ "It got to all of us," Mac replied. "I saw your face when you saw those dead schoolkids."_

_Don swallowed as he remembered the image that would probably stay with him for the rest of his life. Today had been one of the worst cases he'd ever worked on, if not the worst._

_"At least we got him," Don muttered._

_"He should never have escaped, Don. When I put Henry Darius away the first time, it felt good, it felt like justice. This time...I can't feel any satisfaction from it. All those kids are dead. Twelve people dead in just three days!" Mac shouted suddenly and Don almost looked scared. Mac softened his features quickly. "Sorry."_

_"It's alright, Mac," Don murmured and he sat down beside him and slowly took one of Mac's hands in his own. "I'm here for you."_

_Mac looked up at him, eyes wet and stared longingly for a moment. Then without further hesitation he leant forward and kissed him again. Much deeper this time, needy and desperate to be close to Don._

_"I want you, Don," Mac whispered as he pulled away and stared into his eyes. "I want you."_

_He saw some hesitation in Don's eyes and knew he'd pushed the younger man too far. He wasn't ready. Neither of them knew what they were really doing anyway. What was going on between them. Mac knew he had no right to ask this of Don._

_"Okay," Don replied softly._

_"What?" Mac asked stupidly._

_"Okay," Don replied, eyes glistening in the moonlight._

_"Okay?" Mac repeated, still unsure if he understood._

_Don smiled and then placed a hand at the side of Mac's head. "Okay," he said firmly and then kissed Mac passionately._

_Mac pulled the young man up from the couch, without breaking the kiss, and they stumbled their way to his bedroom, a few things knocking to the floor in their hurry._

_Mac coughed, blinked and looked up. He was now in a cafe, coffee getting cold in front of him and Don staring at him questioningly. Don looked older now._

_"What?" Mac murmured._

_"I said yesterday was a laugh," Don grinned as he shoved another spoonful of pancakes into his mouth._

_Mac watched mesmerised as the syrup dripped from the corner of it._

_"Oh, how so?" Mac coughed awkwardly._

_"Some people are just funny," Don shrugged, wiping away the syrup._

_Mac frowned at him, he surely couldn't mean the case. "I don't follow."_

_Don grinned goofily at him. "Me and Mess. We questioned the strangest people. First some crazy old folks in a home and I swear...honest to God, I swear the old girl was coming on to us."_

_Mac snorted into his coffee in amusement._

_"And then this dwarf wrestler who almost had us convinced he'd done the whole thing for a grand!"_

_"How on Earth did that happen?" laughed Mac._

_"You don't want to know," Don chuckled. "Then I questioned a cowgirl with the worst accent in the world."_

_"And then you decided to joke with a pimp's huge bodyguard?" Mac finished, smiling._

_"What?!" Don yelped. "How did you know?"_

_"Danny told me," Mac smiled._

_"Huh, he ruins all my best stories," Don grumped jokingly._

_Mac shook his head, laughing and then drank some more of his coffee. It was nice having breakfast with Don, being so easily in his company. But Mac remembered what Stella had said to him after they'd gone racing only a few days before. She'd told him not to fall for Don again, not to hurt him like before. And Mac had to reluctantly agree. Don did deserve more from life, more than him._

_"It's nice to see you looking better," Mac commented after a while._

_Don pushed his empty plate to the side and signalled to the waitress for more coffee._

_"I still miss her so much," he sighed. "But your right. Time does heal."_

_"I'm just glad..." Mac sighed, unable to continue._

_"Glad?" Don frowned._

_Mac watched him carefully. "I'm just glad you did get better, Don. There was a moment when I thought you'd never..." he sighed as he lost his words._

_Don looked guiltily down at his empty cup. "There was a time when I thought that too, Mac."_

_"I should have been here for you more, afterwards I mean. I was too obsessed..."_

_"What's done is done, Mac," Don shrugged._

_"I feel I keep letting you down," Mac murmured._

_"What?" Don gasped._

_"Watching you slowly kill yourself, Don, was the hardest thing, even harder than knowing I'd lost you and that it was my own damn fault," Mac said sincerely. "I should have appreciated you more, should have had your back but instead I stabbed you in it. I swore I'd never allow that to happen again. I knew what you'd done with Cade. Knew how Angell's death was getting to you. That you felt you'd lost me and then just as you recovered you lost her too. I wasn't going to let you drink yourself in to oblivion. I was determined to always be there for you after what I did to you with Peyton."_

_"I know, Mac. Despite my head being all over the place I could see how much you were looking out for me. I was a jerk, I shouldn't have acted the way I did. The team was sparse as it was. Danny getting hurt, Lindsay having to care for both him and Luce. You, driving yourself crazy in the hunt for justice. I should have been there with you."_

_"Don't blame yourself, Don. You're allowed to grieve. You should have seen me after Claire. It took me years before I was back to myself."_

_"I know, but still..."_

_"I mean it Don. I remember at that dinner we had after we caught the compass killer. I was so proud of you; you were doing so much better. I couldn't take my eyes off you."_

_"I noticed," Don smiled. He sat back as the waitress finally came over and poured him more coffee. "It was cos of you, Mac, and what you said to me in Terrence's apartment. I needed to hear that."_

_Mac smiled sadly. Wishing Don had been spared the pain of any of this. Mac knew firsthand what it was like to lose someone you loved. Have them snatched away before their time. He wished Don hadn't had to experience that._

_"When did you start loving me again, Mac? Was it after Jess died?" Don suddenly said. _

_Mac stared at him in shock. Of all the things he expected Don to say, that wasn't one of them. "How could you tell?"_

_Don smiled a little. "When that thing swung down and nearly killed Stella in that death house. You told us to get out of the way."_

_"So?" Mac said frowning. "Of course I didn't want either of you to get hurt."_

_Don's smile widened. "You let Stella move herself out of harm's way, even though she'd been the one who nearly got hurt. But you held my arm and moved me out of the way."_

_"I don't remember," Mac said honestly._

_"You wouldn't. It was only the briefest of touches and you did it without thinking. But you'd never have done that to just a colleague."_

_"Good thing Stella already knew about us then," Mac mused._

_"You never answered my question."_

_Mac looked at Don and sighed. "I never stopped, Don. I never stopped loving you. It just took me a little while to realise what I had...what I wanted...but by that time it was already gone."_

_Don blinked and his eyes looked wide and solemn. They looked beautiful._

_Mac stood up from his seat and nearly stumbled up a step. He grasped the railing and realised he had a crutch under his arm. He was on the stairs leading up to Don's apartment. He hobbled along the corridor to that ever familiar apartment and knocked._

_ "Mac?" Don said in surprise as he opened his front door. "How the hell did you get up the stairs?"_

_"With great difficulty..." smiled Mac._

_Don grinned and let the older man in._

_"You want a drink after your climb?" shouted Don as he disappeared into his kitchen._

_"Thanks," Mac called._

_"Thought you were with Peyton," Don said from the kitchen._

_Mac could sense just a hint of bitterness in his tone. "She left."_

_"Oh," Don nodded as he re-entered the room with a glass of water for the exhausted man._

_"How you feeling?" he nodded, a frown furrowing his brow._

_"I think I should be asking you that..." Mac stated as he accepted the glass and drank thirstily._

_"What do you mean?" Don asked in puzzlement._

_"Danny told me what happened on the roof. Said you would have been killed if he hadn't got up there in time."_

_Don shook his head and went to sit on his couch, motioning for Mac to do the same. "Danny's exaggerating. I was fine. There was just a bit of a struggle, that's all, but I had it all under control."_

_Mac briefly smiled. "Well as long as you're okay now, I guess that's what matters."_

_Don smiled gratefully at him. "So why'd Peyton leave?" he asked. "When I saw you at the precinct you were rushing off to see her."_

_Mac thought for a moment. "I did see her. I told her how much she hurt me when she sent that letter. She took the coward's way out."_

_"At least she told you," Don murmured._

_Mac didn't say anything. He supposed he deserved that._

_"She did apologise though," Mac defended._

_"Hmph," Don snorted. "Doesn't make it any better though, does it?"_

_"I guess not," Mac mused._

_"Did you kiss her?" Don asked._

_"What?" Mac said in shock. "Where'd you get that idea from?"_

_"Cos I know you, Mac."_

_Mac sighed. "Nearly...but we didn't. I told her to leave instead."_

_"You told her to leave?" Don asked in surprise._

_"Yeah, I realised there was somewhere I'd rather be."_

_"Oh," Don said stupidly. "Aubrey, right?"_

_Mac chuckled. "No, Don. Aubrey's just a friend."_

_Don smiled shyly and looked away, out of his window. Mac followed his gaze and noted that the view wasn't what it used to be. He knew Don had moved after Jess' death and at the time the young man had taken what he could get just to escape the memories._

_"I'm glad you're okay, Mac," Don said sincerely, not looking back round._

_Mac smiled. "I'm glad you're okay too, Don."_

_Don turned around and grinned at Mac._

_Mac smiled back happily but was suddenly faced with a look of rage from the younger man. Don was mad and he realised Don's apartment had changed, it was his most recent one and it was nighttime. It was another time; another place._

_"How could you, Mac? How could you keep something like this from me for so long?!" shouted Don, tears of fury in his eyes._

_Mac didn't move from his place by the door. Don's anger keeping him away. "I'm so sorry, Don."_

_"You made me look a fool. When Jo told me...I almost couldn't believe it, I thought she was making it up!"_

_"Don, I..."_

_"I'm not finished!" Don shouted. "I had to pretend I already knew... that you trusted me enough to tell me something like this. But of course, stupid me, you didn't. And then when I confront you, you have the audacity to yell and tell me to mind my own business! I had to cover for you Mac, in that auditorium!"_

_"I know that, Don. And I appreciated it more than I can tell you. I should never have shouted at you, it was wrong. I am so, so sorry!" Mac mumbled apologetically._

_"Is this what we're always going to be? Lies, secrets, breakups, reunions cos I'm telling you right now I don't think I can hack it," Don said sadly and then he turned, facing his back towards Mac._

_Mac didn't hesitate but used the opportunity to stride across the room and hold Don firmly in his arms from behind. The younger man struggled in protest for a moment and then settled down._

_"Don't you ever say that!" Mac shouted. "I'm not losing you, Don. Never again!"_

_"Then why didn't you tell me about the anomic aphasia?"_

_Mac sighed and leant his face against the crook of Don's back. "Because I was scared, Don. I didn't want to admit it to myself, let alone to the man I love."_

_Don turned in Mac's arms and snaked his arms around the older man. "I love you, Mac," he murmured. "You never need to keep anything from me. I'm not going anywhere."_

_Mac smiled and hugged Don tighter._

_Mac found himself sitting up in bed, the morning sun shining through the window and bathing the room in a warm glow. A book lay open on his lap and a mug of coffee was still steaming on the cabinet next to the bed. He looked down and saw Don asleep in the bed next to him, lips slightly parted and the quiet sound of breathing escaping them. Don was beautiful like this. Mac's hand glided through the strands of soft, raven hair and he smiled to himself, enjoying the tingling in his hand._

_ "Mmmm...what you doing?" came a sleepy voice from next to him._

_A small smile came to Mac's lips but he didn't stop his hand from moving through the hair. He liked Don's hair in the morning, before the younger man had styled it. It was only then that it was soft and fluffy with no wax or gel sticking it down._

_"I like the feel of it," Mac said simply. He heard a small chuckle escape the younger man in response._

_"I need to get it cut soon," Don murmured._

_Mac paused his hand for a moment before continuing to run his fingers through Don's hair. "I liked it when it was longer a few years ago. It was so soft..." he trailed off thinking about it._

_"Do you realise how much product I had to use just to get it to stay flat?" Don asked._

_Mac smiled, slightly bemused. He'd never bothered to put anything in his hair and it had never really been necessary to. "I like it longer," he stated. _

_Don sighed and tilted his head up to look at Mac. "I know where this is headed," he said matter-of-factly still blinking sleep from his eyes._

_Mac removed his hand and raised his eyebrows innocently. "I don't know what you mean."_

_Don frowned, it seemed to have escaped Mac's attention that he was a detective. "Don't play dumb with me, Mac Taylor. You want me to grow it long for the wedding, right?"_

_Mac's innocent expression was dead set on his face. "Not at all, but if that's what you want to do I'm fine with it, just so you know."_

_Don shook his head in exasperation as he pushed himself up into a sitting position next to Mac. "Whatever. And now that the serious decision about my hair has been made, maybe we can move on to a few others, like when, where and who's coming?"_

_ "I don't care...as long as you're there," Mac smiled as he closed his book and placed it on the cabinet._

_"Oh I'll be there, don't you worry," Don grinned and leant across to kiss Mac._

Don was dead.

He lay on the ground, dead to the world around him, brains blown out the back of his head. He was dead. Don was dead. Mac could see his body lying but a few feet away. He could tell no remnants of life remained behind his cold staring eyes. And yet he needed to get to him, needed to be by his side, to bring him back. He needed to help. Don needed his help. God, he needed to get there.

"Aaarrgghhhh..." he screeched in anger, tears burning down his face.

Somebody was standing beside him, shouting to him, trying to calm him but he didn't listen. He wasn't aware of anything. He only saw Don lying in front of him, the back of his head blown off.

"DOOONNNNN!" screamed Mac and began struggling again when he suddenly became aware he was free.

Someone was helping him up but he pushed them away. He tried to stand on his own but fell and started to crawl towards the body.

"Don, please...Don...Don, please...please..." Mac was crying blind.

He reached the body and once again he felt someone trying to pull him back.

"DOOONNNN!" he screeched and pulled his arm out of their grasp.

He felt for a pulse. The skin was cold and clammy. Nothing beated beneath his fingertips. No movement. Not even the faintest sensation.

"Please...Don, no. Please...please...don't leave me..." he cried frantically.

Mac pulled the body up, undisturbed by the brain matter and blood that covered it and the floor. He cradled Don in his arms, rocking him gently and placed a hand against his left cheek, stroking the skin there.

"Please, Don. Please. Please don't leave me here. I need you. Please...please! I'm begging...don't...no..."

Mac's tears fell onto the dead man's face and rolled down his pale flesh. Mac hugged him close.

"Arrrggghhhhh..." he screamed in anger. "Arrghhnnnnnn...no, please...please...Don? Don, please answer...I love you. I love you...God, I love you."

Mac stroked his hair gently until he reached the part of his scalp that was no longer there. He sobbed broken-heartedly, unable to breathe, unable to get air into his lungs. He was suffocating, drowning...

"Noooooo...noooo...Don, come back...come back...I don't want to be alone..."

He was vaguely aware of someone placing a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off and held Don closer to him. Blood soaked into his clothes and skin.

"I love you, Don. I love you," he cried. His chest ached painfully tight. He thought he was going to throw up, to faint, to suffocate all at once.

"I can't...please...just please," Mac sobbed hysterically.

His face hurt from crying, eyes swollen and sore. He barely saw anything. All he could see was those dead blue eyes staring back. Staring at him. They were beautiful. They'd been what he'd fallen for in the first place, what he remembered from their very first meeting. Those beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that were dead now. Lifeless, cold dead eyes. Eyes of a corpse.

"DOOONNNN!" Mac shrieked again, raising his head up and shouting to his God. "You fucking bastard, you bring him back...you bring him back to me..."

What was left of Don's head lolled to one side and Mac stared at the bloody patch where his ear used to be.

"What did he do to you, Don? What did he do? I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...God... please don't take him from me..."

Mac choked on his words. So many thoughts ran through his head whilst at the same time he could only think of one thing. 'Please come back to me.'

"Please Don...pleeeaaseee..." sobbed Mac. "I love you...please don't leave me alone..."

He started gasping air in. Wheezing and inhaling loudly. His vision was blurred, head aching and he retched. The cuffs on Don's wrists jangled as Mac pulled the dead detective ever closer and tighter to his chest.

"I've got you, Don...I've got you...I've got you...I've got you...I've got you...I've got you..." he kept repeating.

Mac didn't know how long he sat there for with Don in his arms, whether it was mere seconds or hours. All he knew was that it was too late. Don was dead. Don was really dead.

Gone.

* * *

A/N – It made me cry to write this chapter.

Flashbacks listed below with slight detail in case they were hard to distinguish.

Pre 1x01 by approx. two years – Mac's old office – first meeting.

2x01 – Bar – first date.

2x06 – Sidewalk – first kiss.

2x07 – Mac's apartment – first sex.

6x16 – Coffee shop – first steps towards reunion. (Mentions of 6x08, 6x09 and 6x10).

6x22 – Don's apartment – finally putting the Peyton chapter to bed.

9x07 – Don's apartment – dealing with anomic aphasia.

Post 9x17 sometime – Don and Mac's apartment – marriage.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N – So thank you to everyone staying with me and reviewing. Those two previous chapters were what the warnings were all about really, so that's the worst bit over. To those of you who are sad, Don will still most definitely be in this story and nobody else is going to die.

* * *

**Israel – Chapter Thirteen**

Jo and Lovato weren't far away when they heard a gunshot echo through the house.

"Basement," Jo murmured and the two women proceeded down the stairs followed by ESU.

They positioned themselves either side of the door as it was battered down by two officers and then it was all go. They ran into the room and almost froze in horror at what they saw, but there wasn't time. Andy raised his gun towards the back of Danny's head, about to pull the trigger and laughing maniacally when Lovato pulled the trigger of her gun. Andy never knew what hit him. He staggered back and collapsed into the small table of knives, everything crashing to the floor with a loud clatter.

"Get Doctor Hawkes," Jo shouted to one of the ESU guys as she ran forward, closely followed by Lovato.

She immediately fell at Flack's side and pressed her fingers to his neck. Dead. She gulped down a cry and felt tears spike in her eyes.

"Check Bedford," she shouted at Lovato, who stood staring numbly at Flack.

Lovato did as she was told; she had to make sure the scene was safe. She felt for a pulse but Andy was dead, her bullet had hit the mark. Jo took a quick look at Mac who seemed to be in some sort of trance before rushing to Danny's side, deciding that the younger man was more in need of her attention. She pulled off the tape covering his mouth.

"Danny, Danny? Can you hear me?"

Danny screamed hysterically.

"Danny, I need you to calm down. You'll do more damage to yourself," she said as calmly as she could. She glanced up at Lovato who looked deathly pale, still staring at Flack's body.

"Where the hell is Hawkes?" Jo yelled, turning back towards the door. She could hear people stumbling down the stairs and then the doctor appeared with two paramedics. He rushed into the room and ran to Flack's side, intent on trying to help the detective in some way.

"Leave him, he's dead," shouted Jo in a blind panic. Danny hadn't stopped screaming and crying.

Hawkes' eyes widened and his face drained of any colour.

"Hawkes! Danny needs your help!" yelled Jo and Hawkes shook his head and then stumbled over. He glanced up at Lovato who looked faint.

Jo moved out of the way to let the paramedics and Hawkes work on Danny and watched in numb horror for a moment.

"Danny, tell me what happened?" Hawkes asked as he and the other two men examined him.

"Two knife wounds in the back...spine," one paramedic murmured.

"The spine?" Hawkes said quickly, fear flooding through his body to merge with the horror already residing there.

"We need to get him to the hospital straight away," the paramedic replied.

Jo clutched her chest and put a hand against a wall for support. She knew Danny had once been paralysed and mentions of injuries to his spine did nothing for the little hope she had left. She turned back to Mac and knelt at his side.

"Mac, Mac? Can you hear me? Are you injured?"

Mac's eyes were glazed over and staring wide. He didn't respond.

"Mac!" Jo shouted, afraid he too was hurt in some way.

She started ripping the tape away from his body and his arms so that she might examine him better.

"Mac, please..." she cried. "I need you here..."

Hawkes ran forward for a moment and he and Jo managed to look him over. "He seems okay I..." Hawkes was interrupted by a loud scream.

"FLAAAACCKKK, NNNOOOOOO..."

Danny was being carried out on a stretcher and as it passed by Don's body he'd screamed out to his dead friend.

"Go with him, Hawkes. Try to keep him calm. He's going to need someone he knows with him," Jo ordered.

Hawkes nodded and with one last glance at Flack he was gone.

Suddenly an anguished cry ripped from Mac's throat and he began struggling on the ground.

"Mac, calm down," Jo shouted as she tried to help him. "Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?"

She only received another cry in response as Mac struggled harder.

"Mac, you're already free," Jo told him as she tried to pull him up from the ground. Something inside him seemed to break and he pushed her away. Jo fell to the ground and watched helplessly as Mac tried to stand but fell too, and crawled the rest of the way towards Flack.

"Mac, no! You don't want to see him like this!" Jo shouted and she tried to pull Mac back, away from the body.

Mac shouted his lover's name again and pulled free from her grasp. Jo looked helplessly up at Lovato who mirrored her look. Neither woman knew what to do as their unemotional and fearless leader broke down before their very eyes, crying and frantically clutching Flack's lifeless body to his chest.

"Please...Don, no. Please...please...don't leave me..."

"Mac..." Jo cried as her lip trembled and she felt tears dripping down her face. "We need to leave. Crimescene will need to examine the scene."

She tried to be professional, tried to make Mac see sense as he clutched the body to him. But she couldn't. This was Flack they were talking about. He was a friend to them all and Mac was deeply in love with him. Mac had been planning to marry him within twenty four hours.

"Jo, maybe we should..." Lovato started but couldn't bring herself to finish.

Mac cried out again and Jo felt her heart break over and over again in pity for her friend, for his tragic loss. For the loss of such a kind, young soul. She couldn't stand it any longer. She went forward and softly placed a hand on Mac's shoulder but he shrugged it off.

"I love you, Don. I love you," Mac sobbed.

Jo shook her head and covered her mouth with a hand. "Lovato, could you give him a moment?" she finally said, realising Mac was not about to acknowledge them or move anywhere away from Flack. "Tell Crimescene when they get here just to wait outside."

"Sure," the young detective nodded and left the room, glad to get out of there.

Jo stepped back and allowed Mac to have some time alone. Time to say his goodbyes. She turned and looked away, finally finding it all too much to bear.

"I've got you, Don...I've got you..." he whispered.

Mac didn't know how long it had been now, whether he'd been sat there for mere seconds or hours. After ten minutes Jo approached him again and placed her hand on his back.

"Mac...he's gone," she whispered.

For the first time since they'd entered the room Mac turned to look at her, finally acknowledging her presence in the room.

"I love him, Jo," he murmured.

"I know," Jo said sadly. "But he's not in there anymore."

Mac nodded and his eyes averted back to stare at the form of his lost lover. "I can't leave him here, Jo."

"You have to, Mac. He's gone. You need to let go," Jo replied, as calmly as she could muster.

"I can't. The moment I let him go he'll be gone...he'll be gone forever," Mac murmured, eyes never leaving the body.

Jo sighed and closed her eyes for the briefest of moments. She needed to stay strong for Mac. She looked down at Flack's body. It was lolling carelessly in Mac's arms, no strength, no movement, no life of any kind left in him. The witty, strong, sarcastic detective had left them all, the first to go, long before his time was due.

"Mac..." she said gently and put an arm around him.

"I know," he murmured quietly. He looked down at Don. The man he'd been in love with for ten years, the man who'd enabled him to move on from Claire, who brought him back to life, who had given him hope where none had existed. The man he'd have died to protect. The man he'd sentenced to death.

"I love you so much, Don," Mac barely said, so quiet that not even Jo caught it.

Jo stood back as Mac carefully placed Flack back down on the ground and pulled off his jacket, covering the detective's face with it.

"Goodbye," he whispered and placed a kiss to the top of his jacket.

* * *

Adam sat patiently in the cushioned chair he'd been sat in for the last half hour. So much had happened in the last few hours that he'd just needed a moment to collapse and gather his thoughts. The ambulance ride to the hospital had been the longest journey of his entire life and it'd almost felt like time had stood still. Lindsay remained unconscious for the whole time and as soon as they'd arrived had been rushed away into surgery. He'd then rung Danny but had only received his answerphone. Next he'd tried Mac but had also got no answer. In desperation he'd then tried Flack but still got no reply. Starting to feel panicked he'd then rung Danny's mother who had not heard from Danny, but had promised to pick Lucy up from school and look after her for the rest of the day. Then he'd tried to call Hawkes, Jo and finally Sid. Sid had been the only one to pick up and had mumbled on about some emergency upstairs in the lab but he wasn't sure what as he'd got five bodies waiting for analysis down in the morgue. That was when Adam had resigned himself to leaving messages for everyone and then rushing back into the hospital to wait it out for either news of Lindsay or someone else to arrive. The former had occurred first. After what had been an hour or two a doctor had appeared from behind the door, the door that no-one could pass through, and had beckoned him towards her. Adam had stumbled up, fear clutching at him as he wondered if the worst had happened.

_"You are here with my patient, Mrs Messer?"_

_"Err, yeah."_

_"Are you a relation?"_

_"Oh, um, no...not exactly. But I work with her, with Lindsay and her husband...and I tried to call him but I can't get hold of him at the moment. He's a detective so he might be in the middle of a case or something," Adam explained._

_"Very well. I'm happy to say Mrs Messer's condition is stable. She suffered a placental abruption which is what caused the haemorrhaging and large loss of blood. We had to give her multiple blood transfusions to maintain blood pressure and she will have to be monitored closely for seven days in case of postpartum haemorrhaging. "_

_"P..p..placental abruption?" Adam stammered as he paled at the very thought of what that meant._

_"Yes. The placental lining had separated from the uterus causing distress to the foetus. We had to deliver it immediately despite it being only thirty-three weeks."_

_"W...what does that mean?"Adam asked nervously._

_"Due to the loss of blood we were unable to wake Mrs Messer and had to perform a caesarean section."_

_"The baby...is it...is it...?" Adam was unable to finish his words._

_"The baby was delivered successfully but was taken to the neonatal intensive care unit immediately as it was having difficulty breathing. He's going to need specialised care for a few weeks but he seems to be a little fighter."_

_"He?" Adam murmured suddenly feeling a wave of relief wash over him as he heard the positive news about Lindsay and the baby._

_The doctor nodded. "Yes. It's a little boy."_

Adam blinked as a slight movement in front of him caught his attention and he rose from his chair. He approached the transparent incubator and frowned as he watched the tiny baby inside stir for the briefest of moments. Most of his face was masked by tubes helping him to breathe and feed as he was too small and underdeveloped to do so himself. But despite that Adam was suddenly taken by a feeling of how much larger life was than just him. It was beautiful, complex, fragile but so utterly and incomprehensibly perfect. This tiny little thing, this fighter was a miracle of life, a marvel of nature and mankind. Adam smiled and placed his hand on the incubator.

"Hey little guy," he said softly. "I'm Adam."

He glanced around but nobody else was taking much notice of him, too wrapped up in their own business to spare him a second thought.

"I'm friends with your Mummy and Daddy. They're very nice people, I'm sure you'll agree when you get to meet them."

He smiled again as he imagined what it would be like to know that the tiny baby in front of him was his own. That he'd become a father. In that instant he knew that was what he wanted. He wanted to be a father some day and he knew Michelle was the one. He'd known that for a while now and this tiny little baby, this miracle of life had given him the kick up the backside to do something about it. His mind was made up. He was going to ask her to marry him.

"Adam?!"

Adam jumped as he heard his name called and turned to see Hawkes staring at him.

"Hawkes, thank God! I've been calling and calling you guys. Where have you been?" Adam said in relief as he went over to his friend.

Hawkes frowned, wondering what the hell Adam was doing in the hospital and more importantly in the neonatal intensive care unit.

"Um, what are you doing here, Adam?"

Adam paused and then frowned too. "I came with Lindsay. Why? What are you doing here?"

Hawkes stared for a moment while his eyes widened. "Lindsay?" he choked.

"Well, yeah," Adam muttered. "I left you guys a bunch of messages. Didn't you get them?"

"There was a situation, I haven't checked..." Hawkes murmured.

"Situation? What situation?" Adam said nervously, a nasty feeling creeping into his stomach.

"I came in with Danny," Hawkes said quietly.

"Danny? Oh my God, is he okay? What happened?" Adam cried worriedly.

"I don't know. He went into surgery thirty minutes ago. I have a friend working up here so came up to ask if he might be able to find out anything for me."

"What happened to him?"

"There was damage to his spine, Adam," Hawkes said sadly.

"No," gasped Adam as he held his hands over his mouth.

Hawkes nodded and then something seemed to kick into gear in his head. "But what about you? You said you came in with Lindsay? How is she?"

"Oh...I..." Adam took a deep breath in. "She collapsed in a cafe this morning, she was bleeding pretty badly. The doctor said she'd suffered a placental abruption..."

"A placental abruption?!" Hawkes interrupted. "Is she okay?"

Adam nodded. "Yeah. She's still unconscious and will be until the morning. I was with her for a while but came up here to see..."

"The baby?" gasped Hawkes, looking round Adam to where the lab tech had been standing when he'd first spotted him.

"Yeah," Adam smiled feebly as he turned and pointed to the incubator. "He's gotta be kept in here for a while cos he was only thirty-three weeks but the doctor says he's doing okay. He's a fighter."

"I can't believe it," Hawkes murmured as he walked past Adam and looked at the baby boy. "Hi there."

Adam smiled briefly as he watched his friend speak softly to the baby. "So I guess I should find Mac or Flack and tell them about Lindsay. Are they downstairs waiting for Danny?" he asked innocently.

Hawkes' face was a picture of horror as he turned back to Adam, drained of any last remnants of colour.

"W...w..what?" stammered Adam uncomfortably.

"I...I...it's..." Hawkes tried to speak as his eyes filled with tears. He quickly blinked them away.

"Sheldon, what's going on?" Adam asked, the other man's face and attitude were scaring him.

"Mac's not downstairs. He hasn't arrived yet..."

"So?"

"The situation...Andrew Bedford kidnapped Mac, Danny and Flack."

"Oh my God!" Adam cried out in horror.

"Lovato shot Bedford, he died at the scene but not before hurting Danny and Mac..."

"Is Mac okay?" Adam asked worriedly.

"I don't know," Hawkes mumbled, thinking back to the frozen, glazed look he'd last seen on Mac's face before he'd left with Danny.

"Oh God," Adam sniffed. "And Flack?"

Hawkes stifled a cry from his mouth.

"Flack's dead."

Adam stared in horror, wavered and then stumbled back into the chair.

"No," he gasped, one hand covering his mouth as he retched, the other holding his stomach. He looked up to see Hawkes nodding, a tear dribbling down his face. "Please, no. Tell me, Hawkes...please...tell me it's a lie..."

"I can't tell you that," Hawkes murmured, wiping the tear from his cheek.

"No..." sobbed Adam, tears breaking the damn and flooding his face as he cried softly.

Hawkes came forward and perched on the armrest of the chair putting an arm around his friend's shoulder. Adam buried his head into Hawkes' body as he cried long hard tears of pain. Hawkes held him close, finding himself crying too.

Before them, the tiny baby stirred again in his incubator.

* * *

Sid stood motionless at the side of the table and stared down at the body there. Detective Don Flack. He couldn't believe it; he just couldn't accept what his eyes were seeing. Nobody had told him, nobody had forewarned him who it was being brought in. He guessed they were all too busy dealing with the scene and aftershock. He'd thought it was just another job, just another body but as he'd unzipped the black cover he'd let out a cry of shock at who he saw. Don Flack. His friend and colleague, Don Flack, with half his face cut off and the back of his head missing. Of course, being a close friend, he hadn't been able to perform the post-mortem himself, a necessity to confirm the bullet from Bedford's gun had indeed killed the detective. So a colleague had done it and for the first time, the first time in his entire career he hadn't been able to watch, so sick he'd felt. He'd hidden away in his office and cried softly before trying to call someone without any luck.

Now he stood staring down at Flack's corpse, unable to believe the sight before him. He'd never been aware of it before but suddenly he could feel death surrounding him, suffocating him and he choked on the stench of it. It was cold in the morgue and he found he couldn't breathe, the air permeated with the stench of death. This was it. This was what life was all about. Humanity. Mortality. And how very human the man before him was. His soul gone, fled of its mortal shell; and all that remained, all that survived, was the thick lump of flesh and bone that had once been Don Flack. Been a person; a living, breathing human being that he'd called his friend. But Flack was gone now and this was life after death. Life and death's destruction, and Sid suddenly found himself hating the morgue, hating what he could see in front of him. But most of all hating the realisation of the coldness and loneliness that would now hit them all, now that death had passed and life continued. For this was now the 'after death'.

He turned as he heard the elevator doors open and his eyes widened in shock as he saw Mac appear, with a bandage round his head, followed by an anxious and upset looking Jo. He hurried forward to stop Mac from seeing the body.

"Mac, I don't think you want to be here," he said kindly and gently held his hands up at Mac.

"Where is he, Sid?" Mac asked.

His voice was calm, collected, unemotional, just as his face was and Sid worried for him.

"Mac, I really think you should..."

"Where's Don?"

Sid folded against the piercing stare and stepped to one side, allowing Mac to go forward.

Mac approached the table slowly, his breath catching as the air stilled around him. Time had paused, frozen against the motion of life, and he knew for that moment, for these few minutes in the great scheme of life, it was just him and Don. He stood aside the table, the body laid out perfectly, still cold and white flesh, closed eyes, blood coagulated and dry. His eyes glanced over the form of his dead lover, taking the sight in, acknowledging to himself that this was real, convincing his mind that this was truth. It didn't look like Don anymore, not the Don he knew, not that beautiful man who had captivated his heart for so many years. He reached out and picked up the stub of hand. There weren't even any fingers left to thread through his own. Don had been broken. Don had been destroyed. The body's mutilated face on show, ear and cheek gone and he could see the bone so clearly. Don's bone. For that was all that Don had been. Just flesh and bone, that's all. He'd never been some type of superhero, even if he'd been a hero in Mac's eyes. No, Don had only been human, that was all too apparent now, and every human life had to end. Whether stolen or not. Mac tenderly stroked a hand across the remaining cheek. The cold of the flesh making him shiver. Don was no longer here. This form wasn't Don anymore. It was a shell, empty of life, devoid of feeling and love. He placed the hand neatly back down and turned, staring across at Jo and Sid. Never before had he felt so alone.

* * *

Sid watched Mac as he approached the table, pain for his friend filling his every pore before he felt a tugging on his arm.

"Let's give him a moment," Jo said softly.

Sid nodded and went out into the corridor with her where they settled into two chairs. They could still see Mac through the glass, staring down at the corpse.

"He's been like that ever since we left the scene," Jo murmured. "Even in the hospital when the doctor was bandaging up his head."

"It'll take a while for it to sink in," Sid mused.

"I can't believe this has happened," Jo said. Her voice hitched and Sid looked at her. She was crying. He gently placed a hand on hers and she took it immediately, clasping it tightly.

"Death comes for even the best of us," Sid said softly.

"But not Flack," Jo cried. "Not Don, not today..."

Sid squeezed her hand.

"He was just so young. The young aren't meant to go first..." he muttered.

Jo nodded unable to speak as she let her tears out for the first time.

"I was meant to be the first," Sid murmured. "I always thought that with the cancer, well, I thought I'd beat you all to it."

"No, Sid, don't say that," Jo cried. "I can't lose you too."

"You won't," Sid tried to smile. "I'm here, Jo."

He squeezed her hand again.

"But it shouldn't have been Don. Not first," he added.

"It shouldn't have been any of us, not for a long time yet," Jo said, trying to smile at Sid.

"I guess we never know when our time will come," Sid shrugged.

"Life can be so cruel," Jo murmured as her gaze flickered back to Mac. She could only see his back.

"Do you think he'll get over this?" Sid asked, following her gaze.

"I just don't know," Jo replied. And as Mac turned to look at them, his face empty, emotionless and blank she suddenly felt very scared.

* * *

Mac finally got home after midnight. The day of his wedding. His wedding to a man whose body now lay on a slab in the morgue. He let his eyes wander across the room taking in what he saw. Don's shoes lay messily in the middle of the floor, flakes of mud and dirt caking the bottom and the surrounding area. A copy of King Lear sat on the coffee table, a coaster shoved inside, marking a page of particular importance. A jar of peanut butter with a spoon in it was open next to it, the crunchy type and nearly all gone. A pale grey sweater had been flung over the back of the sofa, mustard stains down the front of it, no doubt from a hotdog. Mac's eyes settled on a small red stain on one of the couch cushions and all of sudden he found it impossible to breathe. He knew what that stain was from experience. It was blood...Don's blood. Don had been taken from his own home, from their home where they'd thought they were safe from the world.

Mac closed his eyes against the sight and wavered, waiting for himself to steady before opening them again. As he stared back at the room, at the life he'd shared with Don he felt dead inside. No more feelings came over him, no more thoughts, nothing that could be betrayed as emotion. It was simple. He'd done this before. Don was gone. And he was alone.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N – I haven't updated for a bit because I have been busy writing and have nearly finished this story now. There will be twenty-two chapters I think, to let you all know. And I have written the last chapter and it is a happy one, for all involved, I promise if you bear with me through all this depressingness.

This chapter is sad, it's the funeral. So I suggest you read the first bit then skip and just read the end if you think it might upset you.

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Fourteen**

The banging had started a few minutes ago and hadn't ceased since then. Mac barely heard it, so lost in his own thoughts as he was.

"Mac Taylor! You come and open this door now!" an angry voice cried from the other side of the gateway to Mac's home.

Mac stared out of the window unaware of the worry in Jo's voice. He couldn't see much from his apartment, just the building opposite and the people there going about their lives. So much life, so little time.

"Oh, thank the Lord you've arrived!"

There was the murmuring of voices outside the door, a shuffling of feet, a clicking of heels and then the sound of a key being turned in the lock. Mac was oblivious to it all, so lost in his own head, so lost in the emptiness of it all. He didn't hear the door open and close and somebody approach. It was only when a hand was placed on his shoulder that he turned and stared straight into their face.

"Mac, how're you doing?"

"Stella..." Mac murmured and then stood to hug her, somehow her presence made everything seem a little less dark.

"What's going on here, Mac?" Stella asked sympathetically. "Jo's going crazy outside, she says we've only got less than an hour to get to the church."

"Right," Mac nodded and then sat back down in his chair.

Stella glanced around the apartment she knew so well. It was just how she remembered it; tidy, clean...spotless. There wasn't a thing out of place. The only difference was the pile of cardboard boxes stacked up against one wall of the lounge.

"What's in the boxes, Mac?" she asked, feeling like she already knew.

"Oh...it's Don's stuff. His sister is going to come and collect it at some point. I thought it best get it ready."

Stella looked sadly down at her friend who was still staring out of his window. She felt her heart break for him. She alone had known him when he'd lost Claire. It had been hard to grieve back then, so many people in the same situation, so many people in worse situations. And it had been their duty to help those people, they were officers of the law, they were the heroes people turned to in situations like that. However this, what had happened two weeks ago, was more of a personal attack on Mac than anything he had suffered before and he should be grieving, longing for his lost love, not sitting and staring placidly out of his window. He shouldn't be packing up Don's belongings as though the man had never existed, as if he'd never been a part of his life. It worried her that Mac seemed so calm, that Jo had told her he'd been back in work only a day later, getting on with cases and shutting himself in his office doing paperwork when there was nothing else to be done.

"Mac," she said softly and knelt before him. "No-one expects you to be okay, you know?"

Mac looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language.

"They don't expect you to carry on like nothing happened..."

"Stella," Mac said warningly, his tone low.

"Don't take that tone with me, Mac. I've known you longer than anyone. I can see through this," she said as she gestured around his apartment.

"There is no 'this'. I'm getting on with things, getting on with my life. That's how it works. People die, we know that better than anyone, and those left behind carry on with their lives," Mac stated.

"No they don't. They grieve, they cry, they shout...they curse the world and their God...they don't just carry on."

Mac blinked at her. "Stella, I'm fine. Really. I appreciate your concern but there's nothing to be done. Don's dead. What am I supposed to do? Sit here and wallow in self pity and loathing? I'd end up destroying myself."

Stella sighed. Mac was such an obstinate man, and clever too, making him impossible to deal with sometimes, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"Sometimes you just need to let it all out, Mac. Have a good cry. People are worried about you."

Mac's face remained blank but Stella noticed how his fingers suddenly clench into the armrest.

"I can't," he hissed.

His tone should have shocked Stella but it didn't. It made her feel relieved to hear some sort of emotion coming from him.

"Yes you can!" she told him sharply.

Mac turned to look at her, a slight anger burning behind his eyes.

"If I start...if I let it out... I won't be able to stop it," he said in a low, severe tone. And Stella at once recognised the fear in his voice. It wasn't that he couldn't, it was that he was scared. Scared if he let himself mourn Don's passing, let the floodgates open...he'd never be able to close them again.

"Oh, Mac," she said sadly and placed on hand on his.

Mac turned away and stared back out of his window, wanting so much to be alone, while at the same time wanting so much to never be alone for fear of that self same solitude.

"Mac, we should get going," Stella eventually said. "You don't want to be late."

Mac never acknowledged he'd heard what she said and if he hadn't replied quietly a moment later she would have been certain he hadn't heard her.

"I'm not sure if I can."

His voice was small, quiet, scared and Stella knew how lost and alone he must be feeling. That he was holding it all together very tenuously on a knife-edge.

"You don't want to say goodbye?" she asked gently.

Mac took a deep breath and looked at her. "They expect me to talk, Stella. To make a speech about how great Don was."

"And you can't?" she asked.

Mac swallowed. "I wrote the perfect speech. Beautiful, poignant...describing what a great cop he was, what a brave man he was...how kind and giving..." he sighed. "I wrote a speech so generic it could describe any one of the numerous cops that work in this city."

"Mac, if that's all you're able to say, then it's fine," Stella said kindly, stroking his hand.

"He deserves so much more though," Mac murmured.

"Then speak from the heart, Mac. Tell them the truth."

Mac closed his eyes and sighed before turning back to stare out of the window. "The truth...that it's my fault? That the last thing he ever said to me, was that he couldn't wait to be my husband...and I killed him. How am I supposed to tell them that?"

For once Stella couldn't reply, she didn't know what to say. There was so much pain in Mac's heart, so much hurt that she honestly didn't know what she could say to make it better.

* * *

Mac sat through the service, barely aware of it, lost in his own head where it was so empty and yet at the same time so full of thoughts and emotions wanting to get out. He could hear Sam crying a few seats along, could see Irene with her arm around her comforting her. Next to him sat Stella, a hand in his the whole way through, an ever reassuring presence throughout and he was grateful to her for that. Jo sat on his other side, not contacting any part of his body but shooting him sidewards glances of worry and care every so often. Along from Jo were Sid and Adam, Sid was comforting the younger man who was trying desperately not to cry. And then next to them were Hawkes and Lovato, the detective was clearly upset and the doctor was comforting her in only a way a loved one could. Reed sat on the other side of Stella, the young man arriving early to support Mac as the older man had always supported him. Mac turned to look behind him, ignoring the stares and looks of pity he received. Other cops were sat further back; Marchini, Purvis, Officer Hontz, the new CSI Kate Lucas and even Hatcher. Sinclair was also there, looking smart and foreboding and near the back was even Terrence Davis, a man who had once saved Don's life. Mac's eyes were suddenly drawn to the pale figure of Lindsay, sat right on the back row. She looked ill, sick and Mac couldn't even imagine what she was going through. She had been released from hospital a few days ago but Danny was still there, unable to come. He'd woken up a week ago and hadn't spoken much to anyone, not even to his doctor or Lindsay. Mac hadn't visited him yet, afraid to do so, but he'd heard that the prognosis for him ever walking again wasn't looking good and Mac knew it was just another thing he only had himself to blame for. The only good news was that their baby was doing well and had started to breathe by himself.

Mac turned back to the front and stared numbly at the priest spouting out all the crap about God. Mac was no longer sure he even existed. He hadn't even been sure if Don had thought he existed. They'd talked about it once, about God. Mac already knew Don had denounced his Catholic roots but the detective had spoken of how he believed in something, that there was someone out there looking down at them all, helping them on with their lives. Yet what that force was he didn't know. Mac smirked at the irony. No-one had been looking down on Don the day he had died, that was for sure. No-one had been helping him out with his life; instead it had been cut short in the cruellest of ways. But Don had believed in something and so here he was, sat in a church, listening to some fool spout off about God's love all the while hating that very being for destroying his life for the second time.

"Mac..." Stella whispered in his ear.

Mac blinked and looked at her. The priest had stopped talking and was staring at him, waiting for him to come forward.

"From the heart," Stella murmured as he stood and made his way to the stand, taking out his notes.

He stared down at all the blank faces around him, all the red eyes, all the tears. What could he possibly say to these people? What on Earth could he tell them to make them understand? To explain how his world was falling apart around him and nothing he could do was stopping it. That he was powerless.

Mac cleared his throat.

"Don Flack was a great man, a great cop and a great friend..."

He paused and looked down at his notes, the letters scrambling before his eyes. Don wasn't this, he wasn't words on paper, he wasn't a bland, boring cop who lived his life to the full but died tragically young. He was Don...Donald...Donny...Flack. And Mac knew him better than this, he knew him better than anyone and Don deserved better from him now. He shouldn't be thinking of himself, now was the time to think of Don, of all he had been. Stella was right.

"You know what?" Mac said, looking up at the congregation, all eyes fixed on him. "This..." he picked up his notes tight in his hand. "This is not who Don Flack was."

A barely audible gasp went round the church as Mac folded up his notes and placed them in his coat pocket.

"Don Flack was our friend. Don to some, Flack to others but we're all here today because he touched some part of our lives and made it better."

Mac glanced round at the congregation, they were hanging on his every word and he knew this was right.

"I knew Don better than anyone. I knew him better than myself. I could probably shock you with some of the things I knew about him. For instance, he could play the piano. I bet not many of you knew that? And I don't mean the Entertainer, he played like a professional...beautifully."

Mac smiled at the looks of surprise he saw on the faces of the congregation. It didn't matter that he'd only heard Don play once, that it had been the last thing they'd done together before his death. These people were Don's friends and they deserved to know the true Don. The beautiful and loving Don that he'd known himself.

"He also liked the ballet...how it continually showed the struggle between good and evil, what's right and what's wrong. He said it reminded him of his own life, the continual struggle he had every day against the evil of this city. His favourite was La Bayadere and the Kingdom of the Shades. How very apt that should be now."

Mac coughed and felt himself relax. This wasn't as hard as he'd imagined. Talking about Don was easy, it came naturally, despite the guilt he felt.

"His favourite food was peanut butter because he said it made him a little bit nutty and you couldn't live life without being a bit of a nut. He liked to sing, he would sing every morning because what is life without music? In fact he loved to sing and dance, though he could do neither very well. And he enjoyed reading classic novels; Poe, Dickens, Dostoyevsky and even Austen. He'd kill me if he knew I'd told you that last one," Mac smiled.

A brief laugh went round the congregation and Mac nodded. Yes, this was how Don would've wanted it to be. He'd want it to be lighthearted, just as he had been himself.

"But Don especially liked Shakespeare and Hamlet."

Mac sighed as he felt that all too familiar sadness return that had briefly dissipated during the mention of singing and dancing.

"For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come?" Mac murmured. "I guess we never know until we get there ourselves. But what I do know is that wherever Don is now, he is happy and at peace. Don was everything that is good and right and pure in this world. He was one of God's angels, taken before his time, taken far too young. And I am honoured to have been blessed with knowing him even for a little while. He was my side, my safety, my heart, my all. And without him here, the world is a little bit of a darker place."

* * *

Danny lay in his hospital bed, propped up against the pillows and watched the small TV that was in the top right hand corner of his room. It was showing the Simpsons and yet not even the funny-looking yellow characters could make him smile. His mind kept going back to that basement, to what had happened down there, to those awful words he could hear on repeat in his head. _"Save Danny. Take Danny to the hospital..." _That had been Flack's death sentence. Save Danny and boom, the life of his best friend snuffed out just like that. Danny turned off the TV using his remote and sighed. He'd so wanted to be at the funeral, he wanted to say goodbye to Flack, he wanted to be there for his best friend and he couldn't. He couldn't do a damn thing. He was stuck in this bed and no-one seemed to know how long it would be for.

_"Ah Mr Messer, I see you're awake. I'm Doctor Caramel," smiled a friendly young man in a white coat as he entered Danny's room._

_Danny turned his head to look at the doctor. He was quite young, maybe thirty-five and had curly brown hair. He smiled cheerfully at Danny in an attempt to make the situation seem less dour but Danny wasn't having any of it._

_"So Mr Messer, Danny, may I call you that?"_

_Danny nodded his head._

_"Excellent. How are you feeling today?"_

_Danny ignored what he deemed was a stupid question and turned to stare at the opposite wall. He just wanted to be left alone._

_"I'm here to explain your condition to you," Dr Caramel stated, forgoing his attempts to lighten the mood._

_"Just tell me," Danny said gruffly, his voice not used to being used. He closed his eyes and braced himself. He knew what was coming, had done so since waking and discovering he couldn't move his legs. The doctors had done numerous tests on him, an MRI scan and now here he was, waiting for the inevitable._

_"You have what is called Brown-Séquard syndrome. This is a loss of sensation and motor function caused by the lateral hemisection, sorry I mean cutting, of the spinal cord."_

_"Go on," Danny muttered, his eyes still closed, face not betraying any emotion._

_ "The cutting of the spinal cord in your case, resulted in the nerve fibres being damaged on the left of your spine and caused a lesion in the three main neural systems; the spinothalamic tract, the dorsal columns and the principal upper motor neuron pathway of the corticospinal tract," the doctor explained slowly._

_He paused for Danny to make some sign that he'd heard and understood. When he didn't get any response he sighed and carried on regardless._

_"As a result of injury to these three main brain pathways, the cut to the corticospinal tract has caused ipsilateral spastic paralysis below the lesion due to moderation of the upper motor neurons."_

_The doctor paused again and surveyed his patient with some concern when he didn't receive any response._

_"Please, Doc, don't stop," Danny rasped, eyes never opening._

_"Very well. The lesion to the fasciculus gracilishas resulted in ipsilateral loss of vibration and proprioception as well as the sensation of fine touch. And the lesion to the spinothalamic tract has resulted in a loss of pain and temperature sensation and crude touch on the contralateral side below the lesion due to where the nerve fibres crossover once they meet the spinal cord from the peripheries."_

_Danny nodded his head as a tear dribbled down his face. "I understand."_

_"Do you?" the doctor asked seriously._

_Danny blinked open his eyes and stared at him. "Basically what you're saying is the lower left half of my body is completely paralysed and the lower right half will have a loss of pain, temperature and crude touch."_

_"I'm afraid so," Doctor Caramel nodded._

_"Tell me, Doc, is it permanent?" Danny asked._

_"The presentation of Brown-Séquard syndrome can be progressive and incomplete. It can advance to complete paralysis of the body. However, it is not always permanent, and progression or resolution depends on the severity of the original spinal cord injury and the underlying pathology that caused it in the first place."_

_"Do you know which mine is? Likely to get worse or better?" Danny muttered._

_"At this stage it is too early to tell," Doctor Caramel answered honestly._

_Danny nodded again and turned away. "I think I want to be alone."_

_"Would you like me to get a nurse to bring your wife up to see you?" Doctor Caramel asked kindly._

_"No. I don't want to see anyone. I just want to be alone."_

_The doctor nodded sadly and then left the room._

Danny opened his eyes, not even realising that he'd closed them and noticed his wife sat beside him, head held in her hands. He wondered if she was crying.

"Don't cry," he rasped.

Her head shot up. "Danny. I thought you were asleep."

"Thinking."

Lindsay nodded and then gently touched his hand.

"How was it?" he asked.

"I only stayed for the service. But it was nice, well, as nice as these things can be. Stella was there. And Mac spoke well."

Danny grimaced and turned his head. He couldn't bear to think of Mac right now.

"It wasn't his fault, Danny," Lindsay murmured.

"I know. It was Andrew Bedford right? He did this to me. He killed Flack. He destroyed our lives. And why was he here? Who brought him into our lives?" Danny snarled before coughing and taking a sip of water from the glass by his bed.

Lindsay looked away she couldn't bear to see Danny like this. Hating Mac, hating himself.

"Danny, Bedford is the only one to blame here. Mac couldn't control his actions..."

"He shouldn't have picked me," Danny snarled suddenly and then coughed again.

"Why? So that you'd be dead right now? So I'd be alone with two kids? You can't blame what happened to Flack on yourself or on Mac. It was a terrible, terrible thing that happened but it's not your fault."

Danny shook his head. "You have no idea what it's like. Absolutely no idea. To sit here knowing that your best friend died for you to be alive."

Lindsay looked away. They'd been through this countless times now. Danny was clearly suffering from survivor's guilt. He blamed himself, the fact that he was still alive, for Flack's death. He knew if he had died, then Flack would still be alive and well. But ultimately he blamed Mac, he blamed Mac for choosing him over Flack.

"Would you like to see the baby?" Lindsay asked changing the subject. "The doctors said I can take him home in a week."

"Well at least someone's told him," Danny muttered. "It's more than they've told me."

Lindsay stood up. "I'll go and ask if he can be brought up."

"No!"

Lindsay stared at her husband. "What?"

"I don't want to see him."

"Danny..." Lindsay struggled with what she wanted to say. She couldn't understand him. She knew he was angry, upset, scared but the baby should make him happy. Make him think about the future.

"I don't want to see him," Danny repeated.

Lindsay ran a hand through her hair and sat back down. She still felt tired, ill and exhausted from everything that had happened. Danny's mother was still taking care of Lucy but she couldn't do that forever. Lucy would need to be with her parents and Lindsay was well aware that any pain or discomfort she was feeling she'd have to put aside so she could look after her little girl. Not to mention the new baby would be coming home in a week and then Danny hopefully. Her whole family would need her, and need her to be strong. She was the glue that was holding them together at the moment.

"Have you thought what we might call him?" Lindsay asked quietly.

"No."

"Any suggestions? You wanted something Italian didn't you?"

"Don't care. You decide."

Lindsay breathed deeply, trying to keep her patience.

"I want to call him Don."

Danny turned to stare at her. "What?"

"I want to name him Don."

"Like that will bring him back?" Danny laughed.

Lindsay blinked her tears away. "No. But Flack was going to be the godfather. It seems appropriate."

"Whatever," Danny muttered, shaking his head and then turning away. He picked up the remote and turned the TV back on. Another Simpson's episode had started.

"Danny, I..." she started.

"Hey Linds?" Danny murmured, looking at her.

"Yes?" she said hopefully.

"I wanna watch this, if you don't mind."

Lindsay nodded trying not to fall apart and then stood. "I'm going to see Donny and then get him registered."

Danny watched her leave and then flicked off the TV. He sat and stared numbly into the nothingness of his room.

* * *

"Thank you for coming today, Stella," Mac said gratefully as they walked the last few steps up to his floor.

"Of course I was going to come, Mac," Stella replied.

"Don had a lot of friends," Mac murmured thoughtfully.

"Of course he did. He was very likeable," Stella laughed.

Mac smiled at her. God, he'd missed her being here. She always managed to make the best out of a bad situation.

"When do you have to go back?" he asked as they walked along to his apartment.

"Tomorrow I'm afraid. You know what it's like..." she said apologetically.

Mac nodded. "Sinclair has ordered me to take a few days off."

"And so you should, Mac," Stella said sincerely. "It's not healthy to dive straight back into work. Especially not when your work is dealing with death."

Mac sighed as he searched for his key. "I'm not sure what I supposed to do."

Stella laughed a little. "That's because you never take time off."

Mac found himself smile slightly as he opened his door. "Are you coming in?" he asked.

"I can't," she apologised. "I promised I'd catch up with a few people whilst I'm in town. But I'll come by later on."

Mac nodded. "Sure. It would be nice to spend an evening not alone."

Stella felt something clutch at her heart and placed a hand on Mac's arm. "You're not alone, Mac."

"I miss you, Stella," Mac finally admitted.

"I miss you too, Mac," she smiled and gave him a hug. "I'll see you later on. You did well today."

Mac nodded and then closed his door as she turned down the corridor. He walked into his apartment and paused as he looked at the boxes. No. No, he couldn't do it yet. He couldn't look at the remnants of Don's life. It had been so easy to throw everything into boxes, to hide it all away so he wouldn't be reminded everyday of what he'd lost. But it hadn't worked. The pain of losing Don was still so close, Don was still so close, even if he'd hidden him away.

A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts and he smiled as he thought Stella must have come back. He went to the door and opened it.

"Stella, I thought you said..."

Mac froze as his heart leapt from his chest. He took a step backwards and almost choked on his words.

"Don?!"

* * *

A/N - I have zero medical knowledge so let us all thank the wonderful internet for enabling story research!

Oh and no blasphemy meant in this story! I have nothing against God, it's just Mac does a bit at this point but only cos he's sad!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N – I feel at this point I would like to say huge thanks to Kates89 and Iguy for reviewing every single chapter and also Madison Bellows and KarmaComesBackAround. All your reviews make me happy and I appreciate them so much. Thanks guys!

I would also like to say I don't know much about denominations of the Christian faith.

The first part of this chapter was one of the first things I wrote for this story and is my favourite bit of the whole thing I think.

And...Did anyone guess? There were clues floating around so top marks to anyone who did!

* * *

**Israel – Chapter Fifteen**

It couldn't be. Don was dead, Mac's mind knew that. He was dead and buried six feet under, he had had seen the body with his own eyes, lived through the funeral, felt his heart ripped out with grief. But his heart was now telling him otherwise, telling him that the man who stood in his doorway was the spitting image of Don. Tall, of similar height to Don and of a similar build too, slim but muscular. His jet black hair, speckled with grey, had been parted to the side and neatly combed over his head, but it was much longer, reaching down to around about his chin. His light blue eyes shone out brightly from his face, just like Don's and he had the same wonky, slightly too large, nose. The only obvious differences were that this man was very tanned and had obviously been somewhere hot recently. A small goatee and moustache adorned his chin and upper lip and his left ear had two piercings in it. He wore jeans of a lighter variety, flip flops and a dusky green t-shirt with a weird pattern on it that Don would never have worn. He also had a few braids and bracelets around both of his wrists, a beaded necklace hung round his neck and a wooden band sat round his left ring finger.

The man coughed awkwardly and then he stepped forward, offering out his hand.

"I'm Henry. Henry Flack," he said softly and even his voice was the same.

Mac's eyes widened even more and his jaw dropped open as he stared stupidly at the man in front of him. He was obviously feeling rather embarrassed, or awkward, Mac didn't know which. He knew he should say something, welcome him into his home but his mind was unable to form the coherent thoughts to transmit to his mouth. Henry Flack. Henry Flack, Don's brother. Don's brother whom he never spoke of...not to anyone, not to him, not to Danny, and not even Sam or Irene had mentioned him. But here he was, Henry Flack.

"You look...you look so much like Don," Mac finally said, eyes still wide with shock.

Henry dropped his hand when he realised Mac wasn't about to take it. "We're twins," he replied.

Twins...why had Don never mentioned he was a twin? That his brother was identical to him? Mac had heard that identical twins often had some sort of incomprehensible connection to each other, that they might feel loss at being separated from one another. Mac wondered if Don had ever felt like that.

"You'd better come in," Mac mumbled, stepping to one side and closing the door as Henry entered the apartment. Christ they even had the same walk!

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Mac asked as gestured Henry over to the couch.

"Water would be good," Henry replied, sitting down on the sofa.

"You sure you don't want anything stronger?" Mac asked as he walked to the kitchen.

"Actually beer would be better." Mac heard Henry say and he almost smiled to himself. How alike the two Flack brothers were. He took two beers out of his fridge and popped the caps off them before returning to the lounge.

"Here we are," he said as he handed one to Henry and then collapsed into his armchair. "Sorry about the mess," he murmured as he gestured nonchalantly to the boxes.

"It's fine," Henry replied, eyeing them with some interest.

Mac took a swig of his beer and stared at him stupidly. He felt stunned. He just couldn't get over it. Henry was so much like Don.

"I realise this must be weird for you," Henry finally said after they'd sat in silence for a long time. "I almost didn't come but then..."

"No, I mean...it's just you look so much like him," Mac said in astonishment.

Henry looked down rather embarrassedly. "Yeah. Our parents could never tell us apart as kids."

Mac nodded and tried to think of something to say. He had so many questions. Where had Henry come from? How had he heard about Don? About Don and him? Why had Don never spoken about him? What had happened to make Henry disappear from Don's life? But at the same time Mac didn't want to know. If Don had wanted him to know he would have told him. And Don was dead now and Henry looked exactly like him. Mac felt ashamed for feeling like there was an imposter sat on his couch.

"So...how did you hear about..." Mac asked awkwardly.

Henry took a sip of beer and then placed the bottle on Mac's coffee table, careful to put it on a coaster. Finally a difference between them, Mac thought to himself.

"Sammie told me. We've been in contact for the past two months. She started looking for me after Dad died."

"What about Don?" asked Mac in interest.

"I don't think she told him," Henry shrugged. "Or if she did he didn't wanna know."

Mac frowned. "Why not?"

Henry looked at him in surprise. "He didn't tell you?"

"Don never spoke about you," Mac said a little sadly, hoping not to offend the younger man.

Henry sighed and fidgeted nervously with his hands. Mac watched him in silence and smiled slightly as he was once more reminded of Don.

"I was twenty minutes older than Donny," Henry recalled. "We were both named after our father; Henry Donald Flack. I was Henry Flack Junior cos I was oldest and Donny was Donald Flack Junior."

"I thought your father was called Donald? That's what he was known by on the force. Don even said once that he was proud to take his father's name."

"Dad hated being called Henry; he wanted to be called Donald just like his dad, my Gramps. So he used to call himself by his middle name. Gramps was a cop too and Dad wanted people to know he was his son."

"I never knew that," Mac murmured sadly.

"Donny didn't talk much about his family, huh?" Henry asked, he didn't sound surprised.

Mac shook his head. "I didn't even know about Sam until six years after I first met Don. And I only met Irene at the funeral today."

"I wanted to be there," Henry apologised. "I nearly did come but...if I'm honest I wasn't sure if Donny would have even wanted me there. And I didn't want to shock anyone with how I look."

"We're things that bad between you?" Mac asked, intrigued by the mystery of the man sat before him, so much like Don and yet so different.

"We used to be like two peas in a pod. Inseparable. The amount of pranks we'd play on our parents by pretending to be each other," Henry smiled. His eyes took on a glazed quality and Mac was sure he was becoming lost in memories of the past. "I used to look out for Donny, taking on the responsibility of being the older brother and in return Donny looked up to me. I was always the outgoing one. Confident, friendly, chatty. Donny was much quieter and shy. He liked playing by himself or with me rather than being in a crowd."

Mac smirked. "I can't imagine that."

Henry shrugged. "We both changed when we started high school. Neither of us was academic, or particularly intelligent. But Donny found he was good at sports and physical activities. I was better at art and music. Creative things. But we were still inseparable. I still looked out for Donny and he started looking out for me too."

"What happened then? If you were so alike?"

Henry looked sad and glanced down at his hands. "After school we were both supposed to go to the Academy. Become officers just like Dad and Gramps. That's all Donny ever wanted to be, a cop. It was his one and only dream."

"But it wasn't yours?" Mac guessed.

Henry shook his head. "I wanted to travel, see the world. Inspire people with art and music, help them to express themselves...find themselves. The school we went to was Catholic, and I found myself becoming more and more influenced by the religion and yet confused by some of the beliefs and rules."

Henry paused and swigged his beer down. Mac started to wonder whether he was finding it difficult to tell this story.

"I stopped being a Catholic long before we finished school and became a Protestant. I'd planned to go to Art College but then Dad asked about my application for the Academy and I told him about everything. I'll never forget that night. We had such an argument; it went on all night long. My mother and Sammie never stopped crying and it was the first and only time I've ever seen Donny scared. Really scared."

"It was a rare occurrence," Mac said proudly. "Don was always brave, even in the face of danger."

Henry smiled at him gratefully. "In the end I packed some stuff and went to stay with a friend. I lived with him for about a year while I became a pastor for the Protestant church. Donny came to see me a few times and begged me to come home but I couldn't. I believed in what I was doing, I wanted to help those in need in a more peaceful way than to become a cop."

_"Donny, what are you doing here?" Henry asked as he opened the door._

_"Come to talk some sense into you for one last time, Hen," the younger twin grouched as he stepped past his brother. "And don't call me Donny. It's Don now."_

_"Ohhhhh, sorry, Don now."_

_Don glared at him. "When are you coming home, Henry?"_

_Henry sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "I'm not, Don. You know that. How many times I gotta keep telling you?"_

_"Just stop it!" shouted the younger Flack brother. "Haven't you put Mum through enough already? She doesn't deserve this and neither does Dad."_

_"I'll come home when they accept me for who I am!" the older twin shouted back. "I never wanted to be a cop and until Dad sees that then there's no point in me trying to reconcile with them."_

_"You're so selfish, you know that?" Don shouted._

_"Well it's not like you're all so innocent yourself in this, Donny! Have you told Dad about your dirty little secret yet?" Henry said spitefully._

_Don paled. "You said you would never bring that up," he said nervously._

_"I won't...at least, not to Mum and Dad. But this is the same thing, Donny. I want to be a pastor. I want to help people and I don't want to do it by using violence."_

_"Look, just come home, Hen. Tell them that. They'll listen, they'll understand...I promise," Don said desperately._

_"Like they'd understand if you told them you were gay?" Henry asked._

_Don sighed and scratched the back of his neck, subconsciously copying the earlier action of his twin._

_"Look, what if you were in love, Donny. And you'd told Mum and Dad about it and they said no. Would you move out and try to make yourself happy?"_

_"I guess so," shrugged Don._

_"Well I'm doing the same thing now. Except it's for a job, a calling rather than for love."_

_"It's not the same," Don told him._

_"Yes it is" urged the older twin. "I can feel this higher calling within me. More than just being a cop. I want to do something bigger. There are people out there who need help and I want to help them. You should be proud of me!"_

_"I can't," Don muttered. "Not when you're betraying our family, our parents."_

_"I supported you when I caught you with that boy, Donny," Henry said severely. "Why can't you do the same for me now?"_

_Don stared at him for a moment and then went towards the door seeing his efforts were once more futile._

_"Because you're breaking Mum's heart, Hen. And I can't forgive you for that."_

Henry smiled sadly and looked close to tears. "That was the last time I ever saw him. I flew out to Africa two weeks later and I've been a missionary there ever since. I got married four years ago and have a beautiful daughter called Olawunmi, Ola, who's three. When I landed in New York two days ago, it was the first time I'd set foot on American soil since I left all that time ago."

Mac was staring at him in shock. So Henry Flack was a pastor and missionary and had fallen out with the rest of his family for not following in their footsteps to become a cop. It all seemed so sad.

"And Don couldn't forgive you for being a pastor? For being a missionary and helping others?" he asked.

"The thing was that we were eighteen at the time. We'd never been separated, it was like we were one person. Then we argued and I left and it broke his world. I never gave him the chance to bestow his forgiveness on me. I never wanted it because I needed to blame him, I needed to tell myself that it was his fault that we were separated and not mine for disappearing. The rift just got deeper and deeper the longer I left it."

"So you didn't come back when your dad died?" Mac asked.

"I didn't know he'd died. I guess no-one knew where I was. I travelled about a lot in Africa and even if I'd been sent a message it would have taken a while to reach me."

"But you said Sam found you?"

Henry nodded. "I think after Dad died she felt she should look me up. She'd finally got herself straight and wanted to bring us all together again. She told me that Donny mentioned I'd become a pastor and that I'd gone to Africa to be a missionary. Once she got her job with the NYPD she made some contacts who helped her find me."

"But Don never looked?"

Henry shrugged. "Not to my knowledge. But as he was a cop I guess it wouldn't have been that difficult, he only needed to speak with my college. Sammie gave me the impression that Donny blamed me for everything, because I could have easily sent a letter home, emailed them, but no-one knew where I was to do that for me."

"So why didn't you?" Mac asked

"Because I couldn't bear to see Donny looking at me like that again. With that look of betrayal," Henry said sadly. "But I wish more than anything now that I'd made up with him. It's my one regret. I knew when I left that I was breaking his heart. We'd been so close all our lives and then to suddenly be separated like that...to me, it felt like I'd lost a part of myself. It must have been awful for him. He must have felt so betrayed."

"I'm sure he didn't..." Mac attempted to say. He honestly had no idea though.

"It's okay," Henry murmured. "I forgave him a long time ago for hating me. He followed his path and I followed mine. I guess we weren't as alike as we thought we were."

Mac nodded sadly. "So how long are you here for?"

"That's the thing actually," Henry smiled. "After Sammie contacted me it got me thinking about home. I haven't been here in so long and I miss it. I applied for a few positions, hoping that I might be able to make up with Donny if I was back on home turf. I got offered a pastor ministry in the Bronx and as long as my wife and daughter are okay with it, I hope to take it."

Mac nodded and smiled at the young man, though he couldn't bring himself to feel happy for him.

"Was he a good cop?" Henry asked suddenly.

"Don was a great cop," Mac said softly. "Graduated top of his class and made detective before anyone else too."

Henry smiled happily but Mac could see tears in his eyes.

"I wanted to be there...at his graduation..."

"I'm sure Don forgave you," Mac said kindly. "He was never a bitter or resentful person. He was full of love, love for his friends, for his work, for me...and for his family. I know he loved Sam to bits."

"What was he like?" Henry asked.

Mac smiled. "He was...He was Don. Brave, intelligent, sarcastic, witty, kind, supportive. He still loved playing sports and had an amazing talent for making food disappear. He also liked to sing and dance, he liked the ballet and reading novels and plays, not many people knew any of this."

Henry exhaled in amusement. "So he was happy?"

Mac nodded. "He was. I don't think he'd ever been as happy as he was in the last few weeks before his death. He still loved his job and colleagues. His best friend had just asked him to be godfather to his second child and our wedding was only a day away." Mac felt himself choke as he mentioned the wedding.

"I always knew Donny liked men as well as women," Henry recalled. "I remember catching him with this other boy at school in the music room. He begged me not to tell Dad and I never did. Seems like neither of us stuck to our Catholic roots."

"I know he believed in something," Mac stated sadly. "And if there is a heaven then that's where Don is now."

Henry nodded in agreement. "Sam said he loved you very much."

Mac stared down sorrowfully at his hands, unable to face the man that looked so much like Don. "I loved him very much too, I still do. Our relationship was tumultuous at best for a very long time. We both lost people we loved very much. But the last few years...we were happy. I still can't get used to the fact he's gone; I keep expecting him to come through the door any second."

Mac closed his eyes at the emotion he felt well up inside him. Having a man who looked identical to Don sat opposite him wasn't helping. He suddenly felt a hand on his and opened his eyes to see kindly blue ones staring right at him. Henry was knelt by his chair, holding onto his hand, tears in his eyes.

"I loved him so much," smiled Mac, breathing deeply in an attempt to keep calm.

"Me too," Henry said softly. Tears were falling down his cheeks and Mac gently placed a hand to one, wiping the tears away. Henry didn't pull back, but let Mac hold his hand there.

"Donny was lucky to have you," he said kindly.

"No," Mac said softly. "I was lucky to have him."

* * *

Lindsay smiled down at her son, still in his incubator but breathing by himself now, he just needed help feeding.

"Hey, baby Donny," she smiled at him.

The baby moved in his incubator and Lindsay felt a small happiness despite all that was going on around her.

"How lucky you are, my beautiful, little boy," she said. "You know nothing of what's going on around you."

She pulled a chair up close to him and sat down on it feeling such love course through her as she stared at her son.

"You've finally got your name, my Donny. I'm sorry it took us a little while...but Mummy and Daddy were feeling a bit poorly. Daddy still is...but I know he's going to be just fine. I know that, you see, because he has to be. He just has to be."

Lindsay felt a tear fall down her face but she quickly brushed it aside. She wouldn't cry in front of her child.

"Lucy is so excited to meet you. Grams is going to bring her here soon so she can say hello. She doesn't look a bit like you. She has beautiful blonde hair, tanned skin like her father and brown eyes like me; they kind of got darker with age."

Lindsay looked over her son. He had brown hair, like her natural colour, pale skin like her too but he had the bright blue eyes of his father.

"You know what? If you're hair was a little darker you'd look just like your godfather," she murmured.

Once more her eyes welled up as she thought of Flack.

"He was a very brave man," she nodded. "Like you're going to grow up to be. Brave and strong and good."

The baby moved again and Lindsay wiped a hand over her face to steady her nerves.

"You're already a little fighter, Donny," she murmured. "Just like your godfather."

Lindsay yawned. She felt exhausted and knew she'd have to leave soon and go home to rest. She hated that she still wasn't in full health and wouldn't be for some time. How she was supposed to care for her family like this she wasn't sure.

"I love you, Donny," she smiled as she stood ready to go.

"Donny? I like that," a quiet voice said behind her and she turned to see Adam standing there.

"Adam," she cried and fell into his arms, hugging him tight.

"Hey Linds," Adam said softly as he hugged her back. He frowned when she didn't let go. "Hey are you okay?"

"No...no, not really," she murmured into his shoulder.

"Here, why don't you sit down," Adam said gently, trying to lead her back to her seat.

"No. I can't cry in front of Donny," she replied.

"Fine" Adam said decidedly. "Then let's go out and get a drink from the canteen."

He gently put his arm around her and led her outside into the corridor and down towards the elevator. He didn't know exactly what was wrong but could hazard a guess. Flack's funeral had been tough on them all, he'd cried himself when he thought no-one had been looking, but Sid had caught him and given him a reassuring pat on the back. And on top of that Lindsay had still not recovered fully from giving birth four weeks early, not to mention what Danny's condition was doing to her. He took her down to the canteen and got her a cup of warm, sweet tea, deciding coffee wouldn't be the best thing. She looked exhausted and needed rest.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked nervously as he handed her the drink and sat down opposite at the table.

Lindsay looked up, eyes red from crying. Despite that she still looked strong. He guessed she had to be.

"I think everything just got on top of me today, Ad. Flack's funeral..."

"I know," Adam nodded in agreement. "I had to leave early. Couldn't take anymore."

"Mac spoke well," she nodded.

"Yeah, he did. He sure knew a lot more about Flack then I ever did."

"You knew more about him than I did," Lindsay smiled. "You knew he wanted to be a dad, remember, you told me that..." she trailed off as she recalled which day he'd told her that.

"Yeah, I guess we were kinda close," Adam mumbled.

_"So Adam, are you prepared to be destroyed by the almighty Flackster?" Flack grinned as Adam let him into his apartment. He carried numerous xbox games in his hands. "Dude, you so need to clean this place!"_

_"Why? It's not like I have Royalty coming to visit, it's only you, Flack," Adam grumbled in response._

_"Well you could have at least thrown that in the garbage," Flack moaned, pointing to something on Adam's coffee table._

_Adam came forward and noticed a carton of Chinese food with a pair of old pants stuffed inside it. A few noodles were still sticking out from underneath._

_"Oh hey, I was wondering where my favourite pants had gone," Adam grinned._

_"Favourite pants?" Flack deadpanned._

_"Yeah, they're my superman pants," Adam muttered, pulling them out to show Flack._

_"Dude, you're showing me you pants!" Flack yelped and turned around._

_"Oh sorry," Adam blushed and he hurried off to put them elsewhere._

_"And they have mouldy noodles stuck on them..." Flack shouted after him, smirking and then looking down at the couch. He examined the cushion and swept it with his hand before sitting down._

_"Have a beer," Adam grinned as he returned carrying two bottles._

_"Cheers," Flack nodded and accepted one gratefully._

_"So are you prepared to be destroyed by the Rosster, Flack?" Adam laughed as he set up the xbox._

_He turned to see Flack staring at him in amusement, one eyebrow raised. _

_"What?" Adam said nervously._

_"Rosster? Really?" Flack laughed. "It sounds like Rooster!"_

_Adam frowned. "I never get the cool names," he grumbled._

_"Some of us have just got the cool factor, Adam," Flack smirked, relaxing back against Adam's couch._

_"You're so lucky. Cool name, cool job, hot girl..." Adam sighed, looking despondent._

_"Hey, it'll happen for you. Mark my words," Flack nodded. "It just takes time."_

_"Didn't seem to for you," Adam pointed out as he put in the disc._

_Flack smirked and for a moment Adam wondered what he was thinking._

_"Trust me, just wait," Flack replied._

_"You think you'll marry Jess?" Adam asked as he rejoined him on the sofa._

_Flack thought for a moment then shrugged. "I dunno. She is perfect. I think I'd be lucky if she'd have me."_

_"Don't think you have to worry there, Flack," Adam smiled._

_Flack smiled shyly. "Guess so. But there's so much we haven't even talked about...like kids..."_

_"Kids!" Adam nearly spat out his drink. "What do you want those for?"_

_Flack laughed. "Cos kids are fun, Adam. They make me laugh. I'd love to have a little boy...teach him all the tricks I know, be there when he brings home his first girl...when he graduates the academy...when he makes detective..."_

_"You do realise your imaginary son might not wanna be a cop?" Adam laughed._

_"Nope. Not gonna happen. There's never been a Flack man who wasn't a cop," Flack nodded._

_Adam glanced at his face and for some reason got the impression he was lying but didn't question him about it._

_"Hey, shall we play?" he said._

_"Sure," Flack nodded and leant forward to pick up the controller._

_Adam's eyes glanced to the back of his white t-shirt as he did so. He paled and then glanced at the back of his sofa._

_"Hey Flack?"_

_"Hmm..."_

_"Just so as you know...it's got totally nothing to do with me that you have ketchup on your back."_

Adam grinned as he recalled Flack's reaction. He'd never been so scared for his life.

"Yeah he liked to play xbox and playstation like me. Danny would sometimes come too before he had Lucy."

"Maybe if..." Lindsay started and then she stopped.

"What?" Adam asked.

"No. It doesn't matter. It's stupid."

"Lindsay, just tell me," Adam said kindly.

"Well maybe when Danny gets better you could play some of those games with him again?" she asked nervously.

Adam smiled kindly at her. "Course I will."

"Thanks, Ad," she smiled.

Adam grinned and then sipped his coffee. "So baby Donny," he murmured.

"It just feels right," Lindsay replied smiling as she thought of her son.

"You don't think it's a little weird?" Adam said timidly.

"No, I don't," Lindsay said. "Flack would have wanted it this way, I know he would. Because Flack always protected me, Adam. He was like the big brother I never had. He knew things about me that not even Danny knows. He was always there for me. And now my son, Donny, he'll be my protector now. He'll be the one who has the power to mend my family."

_"Hey Linds," Flack grinned as he saw her come into the bullpen._

_"Hey, I was just looking for Danny, have you seen him?"_

_"Still running after Danny, eh? He's not been round here for a while now." _

_Lindsay frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"_

_Flack sighed and stood up from his desk. "You want coffee?" _

_Lindsay glanced at her watch and then nodded. They both left the precinct and fell into time together along the sidewalk on the way to the coffee shop round the corner._

_"So what did you mean?" Lindsay asked him again._

_Flack sighed loudly and uncomfortably. "Look Linds, I love Danno, you know I do...he's my best bud and I would do anything for him. But honestly, you deserve so much better."_

_"And what would you know, Flack?" she said sharply._

_"He's messing you around Linds. Here you are again, rushing about looking for him. Maybe he just doesn't want you to find him?" Flack replied._

_"This is none of your business," she snapped and turned to walk away._

_"Hey Linds? Linds? I'm sorry!" Flack jogged to catch up with her. "Will you look at me for a second? Linds!"_

_He grabbed her arm and turned her, letting out a yelp of surprise as he saw she had tears in her eyes._

_"Hey, what's wrong?" he soothed, giving her a big hug._

_"It's because I know you're right, and I hate myself for convincing myself otherwise," she murmured._

_"Hey, there," Flack whispered as he rubbed her back._

_She pulled away and smiled at him. "Thanks, Flack."_

_"No worries. Though I was kinda the one who made you cry."_

_"It wasn't you. It was Danny really," she sniffed._

_"So what's going on with you guys then?" Flack asked._

_"You know he cheated on me?" she asked quietly. "With Reuben's mum?"_

_Flack reluctantly nodded his head. "Yeah, yeah, I did hear that..."_

_"It's just...it's like I can't get over him, and believe me I've tried. He's the first guy I've really liked in a long time. In fact since coming to the city I've only dated one other guy. Matthew, we went to the opera together but when I got called out to work he decided it wasn't going to work," she sighed._

_"What about in Montana? I bet guys were queuing up to be with you," Flack grinned._

_"Not really. There was just one. We were engaged," she said quietly._

_"Engaged!" Flack nearly shouted in shock._

_"Shhshh!" she hissed. "Yes."_

_"What happened?" Flack asked, still recovering._

_"He cheated on me," she said softly._

_"Oh, Linds," Flack said sadly, pulling her in for another hug._

_"That's why it hurts so much that Danny slept with that woman," she cried._

_"But you still love him?" Flack asked._

_"I can't stop," she cried._

_Flack sighed and hugged her tighter. "Then maybe you're just meant to be. Maybe things will work themselves out. You have to hope," he replied._

_Lindsay looked up at him and wondered if he was speaking from experience._

_"Thank you," she smiled. "Oh, you won't tell Danny about what I said?"_

_"Course I won't, secret's safe with me. And hey, I can always kick his ass for you in the meantime," Flack joked._

_Lindsay laughed. Flack had always been good at making her smile. "Come on. You said something about buying me a coffee."_

_"Didn't say nothing about buying," Flack jokingly grumbled as they started walking again._

_"Ouch!" he yelped as she nudged him in the ribs._

"Flack was always the hero," Adam nodded as he finished his coffee.

"He was," Lindsay agreed. "I wish he was still here. He'd know what to do with Danny."

"So do I," murmured Adam. "I guess you just gotta be patient, Linds. Danny needs time to get used to the fact he may never walk again. As well as that, he's lost his best friend."

"I know, I keep telling myself that," she sighed. "It still doesn't make it any easier."

Adam nodded. "Come on, I think it's time we got you home. You look like you could do with a long sleep."

"Thanks, Ad," Lindsay replied and gave his hand a squeeze.

* * *

Mac shot the chain across his door and then turned out the lights in the lounge. Padding to the kitchen he got himself a drink of water thinking about everything that had occurred that day. For the second time in his life now he'd said goodbye to his soul-mate, his everything. At least this time he'd been able to have a proper burial, he supposed that was something. He sighed and leant against the counter, glass still in his hand. He still couldn't understand how this had happened. He'd been happy. Don had been happy. They'd been going to get married, everything was set and then...and then. Mac closed his eyes as he felt a fury burning at his soul. Then God's will had struck them down. Had taken Don from him, destroying everything he held dear. His eyes shot open and he placed the glass back down, walking into the hallway and looking at himself in the mirror. There it was; the cross he never took off. That one ray of hope he'd leant on through the dark days after Claire's death. But it brought him no joy to see it there now. What had God ever done for him? He closed his fist tight around the metallic emblem and pulled hard, breaking the chain. He was free. Free from the tyranny that had destroyed his life twice now. He threw the chain into the waste paper basket and went back into the kitchen to finish off his water.

His heart felt heavy from the funeral and from the appearance of a seemingly identical man to Don. Why had Don never told him about Henry? Mac shook his head. There was so much he hadn't known about Don and he'd only just been starting to discover these things. He gripped the edge of the counter in anger as he thought of how he wouldn't be able to discover any more of those little querks and secrets. He blamed God, he blamed life and he blamed Andrew Bedford. But mostly and unavoidably, he blamed himself. His decision, his words, his choice. It was almost as if he'd pulled the trigger himself, too cowardly to look into Don's eyes after he'd made his choice. He wondered what Don had been thinking, what his last thought had been? Had he known he was about to die? Mac gasped loudly as he couldn't take his own thoughts anymore and prayed to a God he no longer believed in for the emptiness to return.

"I'm so sorry, Don," he murmured into his kitchen. "Please forgive me. Please forgive me."

He placed the empty glass back down and stared at it for a moment. He would normally wash it up before bed, he hated to wake up to even one ounce of mess but it now seemed so pointless. What exactly was he afraid might happen if he left it there on the side. Don had never cared about these things. There were so many other more important things in life. Mac turned and left the room, switching off the light. He entered his bedroom and got straight into the bed, not worrying to prepare his clothes for tomorrow knowing Sinclair had requested...no, ordered him to take some leave. The bed felt large, cold and empty without Don there. It was the super-kingsize bed they had bought together, chosen especially to accommodate Don's height. It seemed so pointless to own it now.

"I wish you were here," Mac whispered into the dark as he lay down and pulled the covers over him.

He fell into an uneasy sleep and tossed and turned for a long time. Eventually he woke to the glare of the streetlights beaming in through the window. He'd forgotten to draw the curtains. He sighed and got up, padding over to draw them and then returning to the bed. He yawned tiredly and cracked his back before rolling over and bumping into the warm body next to him.

"You always did like to take up all the room," he murmured sleepily.

"Sorry," chuckled a reply.

Mac suddenly blinked and let out a cry as he sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. The bed was empty. No-one else was in the room. It was just him, and he was now alone.

* * *

A/N – Flashbacks from when Don was eighteen, 5x21 and 4x16

The press release from CBS for episode 9x05 credits Don and Sam's father as being called Henry Flack.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N - Well I think we're in the home stretch now. There are actually twenty-one chapters and I've finished them all (yay) so if you're good their may well be a chapter everyday this week :)

Huge and amazing thanks to reviewing peeps :)

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Sixteen**

Mac awoke to the first rays of the sun creeping in through the gap in his curtains. He blinked his eyes, yawned, stretched and then fell back down against the bed. It was his seventh day off from work now and he still couldn't get used to not having anything to do. Still couldn't get used to the emptiness of the apartment. He'd not been out much since the funeral, not feeling like being near people or socialising much. Not that he enjoyed the solitude inside but it was the lesser of two evils. He just couldn't stand the pitying stares he got every time he saw someone he knew. Jo had come round a few times and talked to him of titbits from the lab, he normally just sat and stared, nodding when he was supposed to, mind always on Don.

He lay in bed and stared at the empty space next to him...Don's space...and his heart thumped heavily in his chest. He sighed and stood up, tripping over his clothes lying messily on the floor as he made his way to the bathroom. He washed quickly and then picked some old joggers out of the laundry basket to wear as he went out for his morning run. It was before six and the streets were still relatively empty, bar the few late night-early morning revellers making their way back to their homes. The air felt close and he knew that it would be another warm day. He ran for an hour, slightly longer than usual but it wasn't like he had anything better to do with his day. Then he returned to the apartment, got into the shower and stood under the hot prickles of water, letting the heat burn into his skin and into his soul. He leant back against the shower wall and closed his eyes. This was how it was going to be from now on. He let the steam and warmth overwhelm him and his mind drifted over his thoughts, over the events in the basement, over Don and over Danny. He knew the younger man had been released from hospital and he guessed he should go and see him. He needed to face up to his fear of Danny and what he would say to him. His attention was caught as he heard the door push open and the shuffling of feet across the floor until the toilet seat creaked as someone sat on it. Mac's eyes shot open and he snatched the shower curtain across looking out into the room.

There was no-one there.

Mac nodded to himself and felt a sharp pain in his chest as he realised it might not just be the shower water that was dripping down his face. He turned the shower off and got out, drying himself before exiting the bathroom.

"What? No morning kiss today?"

Mac turned and dashed back into the bathroom. Once more he was faced with an empty room. No-one was there. He stumbled and fell against the wall. His eyes burnt and he closed them as the warm liquid began to fall from them. Don wasn't there, of course he wasn't; he was dead. And now his mind was playing cruel tricks on him. Taunting him at what could have been his life. He shook his head and then went back into his bedroom, getting dressed in an old t-shirt and a pair of jeans and then going to the kitchen to make breakfast.

He opened the fridge and looked for something to eat. He hadn't been to the shop in weeks. A carton of solidified milk was set in the groove in the door. A lump of cheese growing a fury new skin was sat on one shelf and a collection of mouldy tomatoes, peppers and other vegetables were on another; each looking more squashed and wrinkly than its neighbour. He sighed and closed the door before opening a cupboard. A few slices of mouldy bread still in the plastic wrapping lay on one shelf and numerous tins of soup, fruit and vegetables on another. He grimaced and was about to shut the door when his eyes set on the jar of peanut butter. He took it down and stared at it. He didn't know why he had kept it. He didn't even like peanuts. He sniffed and walked to the bin, chucking it inside before going over to the sideboard and pouring himself a thick glass of whiskey. A liquid breakfast was all he needed anyway. It helped with the pain, with the absence, with the knowledge he was a murderer.

* * *

Danny sat in his chair, in what he now knew would be the newest permanent addition to his self and attempted to put on a sock. He growled in frustration as he once again accidently dropped it on the floor where it came to rest next to the previous two. He remembered this, this feeling of absolute helplessness that came along with the paralysis of his lower half. He could still just about move his right leg but it had no feeling in it so when he did, it was most of the time unconsciously so. As for his left leg, it was a no hoper. Nothing to be done. Doctor Caramel had said his condition would either get better or worse and they really wouldn't know for a while which. Danny pulled a fourth sock out of the drawer and bent over himself to try and place it on his foot. He stretched and his back gave a sharp twinge from where he'd had the surgery on his stab wounds. The sock fell to the floor.

"Fuck!" Danny yelled and hit his fist on the nearest thing. The alarm clock gave a mechanic squeal and slowly died out.

Danny stared resentfully at the socks and then wheeled himself out into the lounge and flicked on the TV. It was a chat show...again. Was nothing else ever shown during the day? He looked towards the window and saw the sun shining brightly in the sky; it seemed like a nice day. Not that he could go out. Despite the fortune of having a ground floor apartment there were still steps up to the building that were impossible for him to get down alone. So here he was, a prisoner in his own home. His eyes turned back to the TV as a loud clapping resounded from it and Danny grimaced in spite at the people on it. So they had solved their pathetic problems had they? Well goodie for them. He was far from the same resolution himself. He looked up as he heard a tap on the door. His mother had said she'd come round to see him today. Lucy was at school and Lindsay had gone to the hospital. Today was the day the baby was supposed to be coming home. Coming to live with them. He'd not seen it yet...he hadn't wanted to. Something about being happy over a new life just didn't sit right with him. Don had died and people seemed to be already forgetting about him. Lindsay was obsessed with this new baby...calling it Donny...like she was trying to replace Flack. The soft tap sounded again and Danny reluctantly wheeled himself to the door and opened it.

Mac.

"What the hell do you want?" Danny growled.

If Mac had been shocked at his tone he didn't let on. His face was poker straight as usual.

"May I come in?"

Danny stared for a moment and then turned himself around.

"If you want, not like I could stop you anyway," he said miserably as he wheeled himself back to the TV.

Mac shut the door and followed him over, sitting on the couch.

"How've you been?" Mac asked.

"Oh just peachy...thanks for asking," Danny sneered, still watching the TV.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to see you in the hospital, I had...other things on my mind," Mac apologised.

Danny swivelled round to look at him.

"And what would that be, Mac? Maybe perhaps, the fact that I'm in this chair? Or could it be...might it possibly be because you killed Flack?"

Mac didn't look away and Danny wondered what he was thinking, whether the older man did indeed believe he was to blame for everything or whether he thought he was innocent in all this.

"I'm sorry, Danny," Mac murmured.

"Oh well that's okay then," Danny laughed.

Mac stared at him in silence, unable to think of what else to say. He knew it would be like this. Knew Danny would blame him but to actually hear it, to hear that venomous tone was a thousand times worse than he'd imagined.

"Well if you've not got anything else to say I'm kinda busy right now," Danny said coldly.

"Danny..." Mac sighed. "I never meant for you to get hurt...I never meant...for any of this."

Danny laughed. "You know what? Don't you dare sit there and tell me that. I'm in a fucking wheelchair again because of you! I'm never gonna walk again because of you! You just sat there and watched while he did this to me...while he...while he..." Danny looked away as tears of anger burnt from his eyes.

"I couldn't choose..." Mac whispered.

"But you did," snorted Danny. "You chose me and Flack died. If you were gonna do that you may as well have done it straight away!"

"I didn't want to hurt either of you," Mac said quietly.

"Well you ended up hurting both of us so well done," Danny quickly snapped back.

"I never meant to..."Mac murmured. "I love you both so much."

Danny looked like he was going to be sick.

"My God do you have a nerve..." he muttered. "You killed Flack...you chose me over him...how can you possibly say you love him?"

"I did...I do," Mac said angrily. He may be feeling guilty, hating himself but no-one was to question his devotion to a man he'd never stopped loving.

"Well he never loved you," Danny spat. "He didn't want to be with you, Mac. He wanted to move on with his life but you just couldn't let him could you?"

"Don't you dare..."Mac started.

"Or what?" Danny interrupted laughing. "Flack told me he said no to you. He told me that he couldn't be with you again...not after you left him twice. But you just kept chipping away at him, wearing him down until he had no choice but to say yes!"

Mac stared in anger at Danny. The cruel words swarming over him and making him choke with nausea. He knew to what Danny was referring, of course.

_"What's important is that Ted Carver took a set of horrible circumstances and turned it into something special."_

_Mac had said that himself, less than an hour ago._

_Don was camped out on his couch, bowl of chips on the table in front of him along with a couple of empty beer bottles. The younger man had arrived at his place roughly thirty minutes earlier. This was quickly becoming routine. The end of a case, end of a tiring day, Mac would arrive home...thirty minutes later Don would turn up for no apparent reason._

_"You're making a habit of this," Mac noted as he wiped some spilt beer off his coffee table._

_Don stretched out his long legs and then shuffled up the couch._

_"You want me to leave?"_

_"I didn't say that."_

_"Mac, I know I've been coming around a lot lately..."_

_It was true...and Mac wouldn't have it any other way. He lived for these rare moments with Don. Especially tonight. The case with Ted Carver had really got to him, Ted had been a friend and Mac had felt conflicted and troubled throughout most of it. Not to mention what had happened to Don and Danny. Even now Mac could see Don's black eye and bruised face from his scuffle with Mitch Barrett. No, Mac loved having the younger detective in his apartment every other evening, even if it was only platonic._

_Don sighed and looked lost for words. "I don't know why..." he finally said, shrugging._

_"It's alright, Don," Mac smiled. "I don't mind."_

_It wasn't that he didn't mind. It was that he craved it. He was becoming more and more reliant on it and when Don didn't come round, Mac found himself feeling somewhat empty._

_Don was grinning lopsidedly at him and Mac found himself chuckling in response._

_"At least I brought my own beers this time," Don pointed out._

_"Hmmm..." Mac hummed as he sat down next to Don. "Good...because I was thinking about charging you..."_

_"Hey," Don laughed and nudged Mac with his elbow._

_"Ow!" Mac gasped as he chuckled and turned to look at Don._

_Don looked up and all of a sudden they were face to face, mouths only inches apart. Don's tongue darted out and moistened dry lips, his breathing hitched and his eyes glanced down to Mac's lips._

_Mac reached out and gently cupped Don's cheek, thumb stroking over his bruises._

_Mac leant in slightly. His words to Jo once more echoing round his head. Don was only centimetres away. Don's beautiful, full lips...Don's taste...Don..._

_"Don't..." Don suddenly said edgily and looked away._

_Mac immediately pulled back._

_"I'm sorry, Mac. I..."_

_"It's okay, Don," Mac said worriedly. "I should be apologising to you. I just...I thought we had something here..." He looked hopefully at Don._

_"I know," Don sighed and he looked down at his hands, fiddling with them nervously. "I've felt it too," he said softly._

_Mac sensed this was difficult for him. "Look, Don. Everything about our relationship last time was horrible. It was secret, illicit, full of mistrust...and betrayal," he said regretfully._

_Don didn't look at him but nodded his head gently._

_"If we do this again, we do it right...I want to do right by you, Don. I never want to hurt you again. We're both so different now..."_

_Don swallowed and looked back at Mac. "I love you, Mac. You know I do...I always have. But I'm just not sure if I can do this again. I know I've been coming by a lot lately...and I meant it when I said I don't really know why...I guess I just enjoy being with you. But you hurt me real bad."_

_Mac blinked his tears away before Don could notice them. "I see," he nodded._

_"I'm sorry, Mac," Don murmured._

_Mac placed a hand over Don's, which he was still fidgeting nervously with._

_"I understand, Don," Mac smiled. Don would never trust him as a lover again. "But leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life and I'll always regret it. I hope you know that."_

_"I do," Don whispered. He stood and pulled his hand away from Mac. "I think I should go," he said finally. Don went to the door and let himself out before Mac could stop him. Before Mac could change his mind._

_Don didn't come round again after that. Mac even waited at the precinct for him after the case involving Bobby Renton. Don had looked so downtrodden after the kid had been caught. Mac thought he'd caught the briefest of smiles from the younger detective when he'd seen him waiting at his desk. Mac had asked if he'd wanted to get a drink but Don had only replied that he didn't think that was a good idea. Mac had known then that there was no hope._

Maybe Danny was right. Had he pushed Don into their relationship? Had he forced Don to come back to him? Mac looked away from Danny. How would he ever know the truth now? Maybe the relationship had been a lie, and he was to blame. He was the cause of everything.

"I'm so sorry, Danny," Mac whispered as he stood up. "I hope that...I hope that one day you'll forgive me."

Danny laughed. "I'll never forgive you, Mac. What did you expect? You chose me over him. Your decision to let me live caused his death... how am I supposed to live knowing that?"

Mac furrowed his brow and for once he simply didn't know what to say. How was Danny supposed to live knowing that? Especially when he himself couldn't live knowing that.

"I just can't forgive you for that," Danny said coldly.

Mac nodded and walked to the door. He understood Danny's pain, that's why he could forgive the younger man's fury at him. Suddenly, a key turned in the lock and the door opened. Lindsay stood there with a pram beside her.

"Oh, Mac..." she said, shocked.

"Lindsay," Mac murmured. "I was just leaving."

"Not on my account," she frowned, staring between the two men. At once she could tell what had happened; the look on Danny's face said it all.

"No, no I must get off. I need to be somewhere else," Mac stated and then walked past her. His eyes fell on the little boy in the pram.

"I named him Don," Lindsay said softly as she looked at him.

Mac stared up at her, face not giving anything away. "He would have liked that," he nodded and then turned and left them.

Lindsay watched for a moment before pushing the pram into the apartment.

"Hey Danny," she smiled as cheerfully as she could.

Danny looked at her and then turned back to the TV. An episode of the Simpsons was just starting.

"Do you want to meet your son?" he heard her say and a moment later she was in front of him, placing the small boy in his arms. "Say hi to your Daddy, Donny."

Danny stared down at the baby in his arms.

"I just need to pop back out to get the baby bag. I'll be back in a moment," she smiled.

Danny watched her leave and then looked back down at his new born son. Nothing stirred in him, no feelings of care or love. A new life replacing an old, that's what this was. And he stared with unfeeling at the one they now called Don.

* * *

Mac arrived at the lab and as he stepped out of the elevator he heard a loud shout and then the sound of running feet towards him.

"Mac Taylor, you are not to set foot in this lab!"

"Jo..."Mac said seriously.

"I mean it. Go home, we don't need you here," she said severely. She glanced over him and felt saddened by his appearance. She'd never once seen him wear jeans in the four years she'd known him, she didn't even realise he owned a pair. His t-shirt was crinkled and grubby. He was unshaven and he looked pale and tired.

"Jo, I haven't come to work," Mac stated. "I just want to pop to my office."

Jo stared at him with a look that Mac felt went right through him examining every inch of him, inside and out. He couldn't tell her why he was really there. That he couldn't stand the idea of going back to his empty apartment, not after what had just happened with Danny. But then he couldn't face being in a public place either, seeing the people going about their lives, unknowing of what had happened to him. No, he just wanted to sit peacefully in his office, watching the lab work quietly away, be with his friends and yet separated from them. Somewhere he was close by but yet so far.

"Fine. But if I see so much as a pen in your hand..." she warned smiling at him.

Mac attempted a smile back and then walked into his office and sat down at his desk. He closed his eyes and leant back in the chair trying to relax. His mind wouldn't let him though. It kept whirring away, processing over the events of Danny's words and Don's death over and over again. He couldn't stand it. Danny was right. He'd killed Don. He'd destroyed Danny's life. How could he ever expect things to go back to the way they'd been? Danny would never forgive him, and more importantly he would never forgive himself. He flicked his eyes open and watched as the lab techs walked to and fro in the corridor.

Had Danny been right about him and Don? Had he forced Don into their relationship? He honestly had no idea anymore. They'd broken up and got back together so many times over the course of knowing each other that it was really impossible to tell. He knew he'd been to blame every time. First with the explosion and then Peyton. God...Peyton. That had been his worst mistake, leaving for London with her. He knew why he'd done it though. He'd been so convinced at the time that he'd leave her because he loved Don that he hadn't realised that he'd fallen in love with her too until it was too late. Then he was stuck trying to choose between two people he was deeply in love with. In the end he'd gone with Peyton, it had made more sense logically. It would be more accepted, they were more suited and it would give Don the chance to meet someone more suitable himself, someone like Jess. But it hadn't worked out for either of them in the long run. Whatever happened they always seemed to find their way back to one another. Mac took a deep breath. No. Danny was wrong. He and Don were meant to be together, they always had been, even if it would end tragically. Mac rubbed his forehead in exhaustion and his eyes moved round his office. Eventually they settled on a leafy green plant sat on a shelf.

_A tap on his door made him turn around. Don was standing there, a leafy looking plant in his hands._

_"Hey," he grinned goofily. He gestured with the plant to Mac._

_"Is that for me?" Mac smiled, one eyebrow raised._

_"Yeah," Don said cheerily._

_"I don't really do plants, Don," Mac stated._

_"I know. That's why I got you one."_

_"Hmmm," Mac hummed as Don held the plant out to him. He took it and glanced it over. "Thanks, Don," he sighed._

_"I knew you'd like it," Don grinned enthusiastically._

_Mac stared at him in amusement and then placed it on his desk._

_"So what's it like to be back?" asked Don, stepping further into the room._

_Mac sighed and thought about it for a minute. "It's like finally being back where I belong."_

_"So it's all good?"_

_"Yes. Yes it is."_

_"Everything ready and waiting for you?"_

_Mac arched an eyebrow at Don._

_"I hope so."_

_Don smiled shyly._

_"Don, listen..."_

_"No, it's alright, Mac," Don interrupted. "I know you needed to sort yourself out. Even if it has been over four months."_

_"I'm sorry..."_

_"Don't apologise. Just...look, it's okay. Honestly."_

_Don stepped closer to Mac and the older man smiled at him._

_"Listen, why don't we go and get a coffee or something?" Mac suggested. "If you're free."_

_Don's wonky grin was back. "I got off work thirty minutes ago."_

_"Great," Mac replied as he grabbed his suit jacket._

_The two men left the building and walked out onto the street. They slowly walked down the sidewalk, both knowing exactly where they were headed. It was their favourite place. The place they'd been going to when they'd shared their first kiss._

_"So," Don sighed._

_"So," Mac repeated. He smiled at Don._

_"How've you really been, Mac?" Don asked._

_Mac sighed. "Good. Really. The work I was doing for the last four months was extremely important."_

_"Well that's good."_

_"I couldn't help but hope..."_

_"Claire?"_

_Mac nodded._

_"You spoke really well at the memorial."_

_Mac smiled sadly and they walked in silence for a while, both lost in thoughts of that day just over ten years ago._

_"I let her go, Don," Mac finally said._

_"What?" Don asked, somewhat shocked._

_"I let her go. I'd saved these two tickets I'd bought for us to see the opera that evening. I'd kept hold of them all this time."_

_Don stared sadly at Mac, his eyes wide and solemn._

_"I got rid of them the day of the memorial. I let her go. It was time."_

_"You can't live in the past forever, Mac. She wouldn't want that for you."_

_"I'll always love her, Don."_

_"I know. I'll always love Jess. No one can ever take that away from you, Mac."_

_Mac stopped walking and Don turned to look back at him._

_"Mac?"_

_"I still love you, Don, now more than ever. If you'll have me, I want to give this a proper go...no more lies or secrets...just you and me...and seeing where this leads. It may not work, I don't know. But I want to give it a damn good try."_

_Mac waited anxiously for Don's reply. Don nodded a little, his face serious and he took a step closer._

_"I waited, Mac. I waited for you," he said softly. "And I'm not even scared this time."_

_"Does this mean you still want me?" Mac asked, his breath coming in deep gasps._

_Don walked towards him and took his hand, hooking their fingers together._

_"Let's go and get that coffee," he smiled. He pulled Mac's arm and they set off down the sidewalk, hand in hand._

_"Don?"_

_"Mmmm?"_

_"I really do like my plant."_

_Don grinned. "Something to remind you of me each day."_

_"Hopefully I'll have you for that. But thank you anyway."_

_Don squeezed his hand._

Mac stared at the plant. Something to remind him of Don every day. Every day for the rest of his life. Mac blinked and fought with himself over whether to just throw it out. He stood and walked towards it, reaching out and touching one of the leaves.

"So I've brought you a coffee..."

Mac turned and saw Jo standing in the doorway with two mugs of steaming liquid.

"Jo, I don't need..."

"I hope you're not doing what I think you are," she said knowingly as she placed the drinks down on his desk.

"What?" Mac asked puzzled.

"That plant, Don gave it to you didn't he?"

Mac swallowed and then walked sharply back to his desk.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said as she sat down opposite him. "You better not be getting rid of it."

"I wouldn't dare," Mac replied as he sipped the coffee she'd brought him. It was good.

"So why are you here, Mac?" she asked kindly, drinking her own coffee.

Mac sighed. He didn't know what to tell her. That he couldn't stand being alone. And yet he couldn't stand being in company.

"I just wanted to check how the place is ticking over," he replied blandly.

"Like clockwork," Jo replied.

Mac nodded his approval and drank some more coffee.

"Have you even cried since it happened?" Jo suddenly said.

Mac stared at her. "What?"

"You're acting like none of this is affecting you," she replied. "You've built up this huge wall to keep everybody out and whatever it is you've got locked away inside is building and building and it's going to eventually get out, Mac. You can't hide your emotions away forever."

Mac pursed his lips. He'd forgotten how very good she was at reading people. And how very much like Stella she was in that respect.

"I'm not hiding anything away, Jo," he stated defiantly. "What do you expect me to do? Sit all day and cry? Find misery in everything I do because Don died?"

"I expect you to show at least some remorse at his passing," Jo said in concern.

"Of course I'm sad he died," Mac ground out. "You don't think it hurts me every day that he's not here anymore? But what's the use in crying? What's the use in wallowing in self pity because we all know I'm to blame. I know that's what they all think."

"Mac, of course..."

"Jo, we need you in the lab, Adam's just had a breakthrough," Hawkes interrupted, popping his head through the door.

Jo stared at him venomously. "Lord Almighty, Sheldon Hawkes!" she exclaimed in frustration.

Hawkes backed out of the room in fear and hurried away while Jo turned back to Mac.

"Just go," Mac sighed and turned from her.

Jo sighed and left the room, irritated that they'd been interrupted just as she'd finally got him to open up to her.

Mac watched her leave and then stood, deciding to make his escape while he still had the chance. He walked round his desk and paused, staring up at the leafy plant. Then he walked over and picked it up, dumping it into the trash before going on his way.

* * *

Mac unlocked his door and slammed it behind him as he made his way to the lounge. He collapsed onto the couch and held his head in his hands. Finally alone again. He hated this. He couldn't go anywhere. Those accusatory eyes at the lab, Danny's hateful words, Lindsay's baby showing him how life moved on. But he couldn't. He couldn't move on. Not without Don. Don who was still so ever present in this apartment, despite not being there. Everything reminded him of the detective, which in turn reminded him of what he'd done. Of the death he'd caused. He felt so hollow. So devoid of any will to live or to move on. And yet, and yet he couldn't stand to be like this, to be stuck alone with so many heartbreaking memories. He looked out across the room. His place was a mess. He'd not cleaned it in over a week now. The coffee table was littered with food packets, dirty plates and cups that had started growing new life, an empty whiskey bottle or three. Mac sneered at them, regretting not buying another one on the way home. He grinned as he remember the little bit he had left in the kitchen and stood, making his way to the other room. He stumbled back in horror as he got there.

Don.

Don was sitting at the counter sucking on a spoon, the jar of peanut butter open before him on the countertop.

"Why'd you throw out the peanut butter, Mac?"

Mac's eyes widened in shock and then he blinked hard. The room was empty. No-one was there. No Don. No-one at all. He rushed to the bin and looked into it. There, at the top of the pile of garbage was the jar he'd thrown out that morning. He picked it up and stared at it for a moment, before his eyes made the journey to the stool he'd just seen Don sat on. He grimaced in anger, in distress and he felt tears fall from his eyes. How was he doing this to himself? Why was he doing this to himself? It wasn't fair. Don was gone. Lost among the shades and now his mind was conjuring up these hateful visions.

"Just leave me alone!" he shouted as it all got too much for him and he threw the jar against the wall.

It smashed against it and crashed to the floor, glass sprinkling everywhere. The thick contents splattered over the wall.

"Just leave me alone..." he whispered in agony.

* * *

A/N – Flashbacks from 7x09 and 8x02


	17. Chapter 17

A/N - Only four more chapters after this one!

* * *

**Israel – Chapter Seventeen**

Sid made his way to the small table in the coffee shop, navigating round the tables with tray consisting of a cup of Earl Grey and a salmon and dill sandwich. He smiled at the man opposite him as he sat down and sighed.

"Gosh, what an assault course that was!"

Hawkes grinned at him. "Should have got here earlier then, there was barely anyone in here ten minutes ago."

"Ah, duty called I'm afraid, my friend. My autopsy took slightly longer than I'd imagined."

Hawkes laughed and nodded. "I remember."

"Oh, no lemon," Sid suddenly frowned as he looked down at the table. "And I did specifically say to the young lady I wanted lemon and not milk."

"So fussy," Hawkes muttered chuckling.

"Never mind, I'll just have it black," Sid grumbled. He took a sip and made a face.

"So how's it going?" Hawkes asked. "Haven't seen much of you recently."

"That's because you no longer grace me with your presence down in the morgue," Sid stated.

"Do you know how rushed off our feet we are upstairs?" Hawkes exclaimed. "What with Danny, Lindsay and Mac not being there!"

"I thought you had that lovely young lady now...Kate?" Sid frowned as he bit into his sandwich. "Mmmm."

"Well yeah, we do. But that still means we're down two CSIs," Hawkes muttered.

"I guess Danny won't be coming back now," Sid mused.

Hawkes sighed sadly. "He's not doing so good, Sid."

Sid put down his sandwich and shook his head sadly. "I heard. Adam keeps me up to date with what titbits he gets from Lindsay."

"She's coming back, you know? Jo told me. She asked if she could replace Danny's position."

"Gosh, how will she manage to work after only just having a baby?" Sid asked in astonishment. "And with Danny...won't he need her to care for him?"

"I don't know," Hawkes shrugged. "From what I've gathered she'll be glad of the break away from him."

"What do you mean?" Sid frowned.

Hawkes sat back and grimaced. "Lindsay told me Danny hasn't connected with Donny. He never interacts with him, barely even notices that he's there. And he still calls him 'it'."

"But he was so excited at having a son!" gasped Sid.

"I know," Hawkes said sadly. "It's like he's shut down from any emotional connection especially towards Donny. I think she hopes they'll bond if Danny has to take care of him."

"It's unfortunate he was born on the same day..." Sid drifted off and Hawkes nodded at what he was going to say.

"Maybe he's resentful of Donny being alive when the man he was named after isn't with us anymore," Hawkes shrugged.

"And how are you doing, Sheldon?" Sid asked in concern.

Hawkes sighed. "I'm doing okay, work is so busy it's kind of taking over everything right now. I just try to focus on that."

"It's good to keep busy," Sid nodded.

"I still expect to see him come strutting down the corridor at the lab sometimes..." Hawkes murmured.

Sid patted his hand kindly. "I know what you mean. Whenever I look up and happen to see a tall figure with dark hair I have to do a double take. I guess it'll just take time."

"I hope so," Hawkes said honestly.

"And how is young Jamie?" Sid asked politely.

"She's still in shock. She's never had a colleague die before," Hawkes replied. "She was close to Flack."

"She'll get over it eventually," Sid said reassuringly.

"I'm not sure the same can be said for Mac," Hawkes muttered.

Sid looked grim as he drank some more of his tea and Hawkes wasn't sure if it was from what he'd just said or the tea itself.

"It's been weeks now. I spoke with Jo the other day. She's been round numerous times and stayed for almost half an hour banging on his door receiving no answer," Sid muttered.

"Does he go out?" Hawkes asked.

"According to the neighbours he rarely leaves his apartment and if he does he comes back with bags clinking of bottles."

"He's drinking?" Hawkes gasped. "That's so unlike Mac."

"I don't know. I agree it doesn't sound very much like him...but what he's suffered..." Sid shook his head.

"Doesn't anyone have a key?" Hawkes asked.

"Only Stella and she didn't leave it when she went back to New Orleans."

"He needs help," Hawkes said sadly.

"If he'll even let any of us help him. It sounds to me like he's shutting himself off from everyone," Sid murmured.

"It'll destroy him like that," Hawkes whispered.

"I know," Sid sighed.

The two men sat in silence and stared down at their food, all of a sudden not feeling in the mood to be eating.

* * *

Danny sat in his chair and watched the TV, it had been the same shit on for the whole two weeks he'd been out of hospital now and it seemed to be all he was doing these days. Pretty much all he could do. How badly he wanted to go out and play with his little girl, take her for piggy-back rides in the park...but he couldn't...he couldn't do anything. Lucy had even asked him to take part in the sports day at her school, there was a special race for Daddies at the end of the day. It had broken his heart to have to say no, to see the hurt in her eyes and listen to her run to her Mummy crying. To Lindsay. Then of course the baby had joined in. God it wouldn't stop crying...and the sound pierced right through him. He didn't know what he'd do when Lindsay went back to work. They needed the money, he knew that they needed one of them to be working but it meant that he'd be at home alone with the baby. And how he hated that thought even more than the one telling him he'd never walk again.

"Waaaaaaa!"

Danny jumped at the noise and looked towards the kitchen where the baby monitor was.

"Babe, can you get Donny?" Lindsay shouted from that very room, she was in the middle of cooking the lunch.

"I can't, Linds. My chair is stuck..." Danny shouted back hurriedly, finding any pitiful excuse.

A moment later Lindsay ran from the kitchen towards the nursery, giving Danny the evil eye as she went. He stared after her, knowing he didn't feel one ounce of shame for so obviously lying to her. She deserved better than him anyway, she always had done and now he was just proving that. How was he supposed to look after her? How was he supposed to look after his family while he was stuck in this wretched chair? Lucy's life would never be normal, she'd get picked on at school for having a retarded father. He wouldn't be able to play sports with her, dance with her at her wedding. Danny gulped down a cry and looked down at his legs. He'd never be able to dance with Lindsay again, go out and not have people stare at them like he was abnormal. He'd never be able to make love to her again. She deserved so much better, needed so much better than he could ever be for her. He was pointless. Just a part of the furnishings now. A prisoner in his own home. Their life would be better without him. Mac should have left him to die in that basement. Don had deserved life more than he did.

Danny wheeled himself away from the TV and into the kitchen and looked around for a cup, wanting to get a drink of water to calm himself. He saw there were some drying on the draining board and stretched up to get himself one. He sighed irritated as he was unable to get hold of one properly. His fingers tumbled with it, nudging it ever closer. He growled and made a sudden grab for it, trying to get hold of it. It was too much, the cup slid off the surface and fell to the ground, smashing into smithereens. Danny grimaced in anger and rubbed his brow with his hand. He was so fucking pathetic. He was so fucking unnecessary. He couldn't even get a drink of water. He glanced up and tried to blink away his tears of frustration. Suddenly his eyes were drawn to the glint of silver on the side where Lindsay had been preparing the food. Danny rolled himself closer and reached out, hand clasping around the handle of the knife. He brought it to him. It was strangely calming. So cool against his hand...so sharp... so beautiful...so easy. Danny stared at it mesmerised. So easy.

"Danny!"

Lindsay ran to him and pulled the knife out of his hands. He stared blankly up at her, no sign of any emotion on his face.

"Danny, what the hell were you doing with this?" she yelled angrily.

He didn't reply despite the fact he could clearly see the worry etched all over her face.

"Danny, please...just please talk to me," she begged.

"I'm not hungry. I think I'll go to bed and rest," he muttered coldly and turned himself around, going out of the kitchen towards the bedroom.

"Please! Lindsay shouted after him. "You can't keep doing this to yourself!"

She received no reply and stared back down at the knife which she placed on the side. He was sinking fast and nothing she was doing seemed to be helping. Lindsay held on to the countertop as she cried, desperation consuming her. She was losing him and was powerless to stop it.

* * *

It was afternoon by the time Mac dragged himself out of his apartment and down to the store round the corner to buy perhaps a loaf of bread and a six-pack. He knew he shouldn't be doing this; he should be getting back on his feet, getting back to work, moving on from Don but he couldn't. They said time healed all wounds but in his case it certainly didn't. He felt Don ever with him, just past his shoulder where he couldn't see him, but knew he was there. He heard him in their home, occasionally saw a glimmer of him in one of the rooms but it always turned out to be a lie. He knew Don was dead and he hated what he was now doing to himself. He hated being constantly reminded of the man he'd lost, of the man he'd killed...but at the same time he was becoming increasingly hopeful of those glimmers. He craved hearing Don's voice, seeing his shadow in one of the rooms even if he knew it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He'd started going out less and less in the hope he might see Don more. In the hope maybe he was really there. He so desperately needed Don back.

Mac paused and snatched a hand out, steadying himself on a streetlamp. He suddenly realised how sick and faint he felt. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten anything. He was hungry. He sniffed and looked up. It was cold today, people were wearing their coats but he'd forgotten his and now he felt the spit of rain on his face. He'd go to Sal's. Sal could always cheer him up and he did make the best sandwiches in the whole of the city. Mac trod on towards the area of the city where Sal's small cafe was situated. It wasn't a long walk and even though it started to pour just as he got into the same street, Mac didn't mind. He liked the numb feeling the icy rain brought with it. It felt the same as the alcohol.

Mac pushed open the door and walked in. Then he frowned. There'd been no bell. His eyes became more focused and he looked round himself. The place was a mess, wallpaper gone from one wall, half the tables piled up against a different wall, the glass had gone from the counter where the ingredients had been kept and a few small round holes were situated in two of the walls. Mac knew exactly what they were. Bullet holes. Four customers were still sat on the few remaining tables. The man with the newspaper was at his usual table but there was no newspaper in front of him. Instead, he stared blankly out of the window watching the rain patter down onto the glass. One of the gaping ladies sat alone on a particularly large table, she looked small, frail and withdrawn. The lady with the hamster sat on another table staring at the large piece of cake in front of her. There was no sign of her hamster and Mac wondered where it had gone. A man Mac barely recognised was the final customer in there. Mac narrowed his eyes and stared and only then did it come to him that this was moustache man without his moustache. He looked completely different.

"Mac Taylor!" a loud voice said from behind him and Mac turned to see Sal standing there. He looked thinner than normal, and unhappy despite his smile.

"Sal?" Mac croaked. "What happened here?"

Something that Mac thought he recognised flashed across Sal's face and then he gestured to the last remaining free table.

"Why don't you join me for a coffee here, Mac?"

Mac nodded and then sat down at the table, glad to take the weight off.

"Mariella, two Americano," Sal shouted over his shoulder before he came round and joined Mac at the table. "I've not seen you for a while, Mac."

Mac nodded but didn't say anything. He didn't want to see that familiar pity from Sal's face.

"Work," Sal interpreted incorrectly and Mac nodded again.

"What happened to this place, Sal?" Mac asked looking round.

"Two weeks ago, a hold up. Three guys came in and robbed us. Two had guns," Sal said in a surprisingly quiet tone for him.

"My God," Mac whispered in disgust.

"They shot the place up pretty bad...I'm not even open for business really but these good folks had nowhere else to go," Sal said sadly.

"Where are the others?" Mac asked, intrigued by the appearance of only some of his regulars.

Sal sighed and once again Mac thought he recognised whatever emotion it was that flashed across his face.

"Margot, the lady who normally would sit with Roberta over there gossiping... she was shot. Died in the hospital."

Mac grimaced and felt a familiar anger at what kind of people were allowed to roam the world when good people like Margot...and like Don were taken.

"And Harry, the guy who used to buy crusts off me, he was shot too but I hear he's recovering in hospital. His family are putting him into a home when he's better."

"Does he want to go into one?" Mac asked.

"I doubt it. He was happy with how things were. But so is life," Sal sighed.

Just then a pretty girl of about sixteen appeared with the two coffees and made her way to the table, placing them down before hurrying away. One of Sal's kids. Mac couldn't help but notice she'd been crying. He glanced up at Sal and then decided not to say anything.

"Maude's hamster disappeared during the fray and Mungo's paper was destroyed. He had that paper since the day he got married. His wife gave it to him as a gift for them to remember the date. They were in an accident fifteen odd years ago and she was killed. Mungo can't form new memories so he'd go about his old routine. Coming here, drinking the same drink, reading the same paper and now that's been taken from him."

Mac suddenly felt very small. He'd been so consumed with his own grief, so hurt by what he'd done and so betrayed by the God he'd once believed in that he'd forgotten how the world moved on. It wasn't just him. Other people suffered too and some much worse than him. The people who came to this place were good, kind, decent souls who'd had their lives turned upside down due to the evil of just a few men.

"What about his moustache?" Mac whispered nodding his head behind him to the man sat there.

Sal smiled a little and then once more went back to looking sad. "There was so much blood in it...Felix tried to save Margot...he couldn't get it out so he shaved it off."

Mac sighed and looked away from Sal's gaze. His heart ached for the souls in this room. It was the first time since Don had died that he felt anything for anyone apart from himself.

"So how're you doing, Mac? I gotta say, you're not looking so good..." Sal said.

Mac looked back at him. "I've been through a tough patch recently."

"I thought you were getting married to that handsome boy of yours? Where's your ring gone?"

Mac looked down at his bare finger and felt a lump in his throat. He'd removed it the day after Don passed and hadn't thought about it since. He'd not wanted to.

"Don died," Mac suddenly said, opening up to the man before him, a man he really didn't know that well, all things considered.

"I'm so sorry, Mac," Sal said earnestly.

"It was a little over five weeks ago, the day before our wedding," Mac murmured, somehow finding it easy to talk to Sal.

"God giveth and God taketh away," Sal said wisely.

"God doesn't exist," Mac said bitterly.

"Oh Mac," Sal sighed. "We may not be able to see it but he has reason for his actions."

"And what would you know?" Mac suddenly said angrily.

Sal shook his head sadly but he didn't look offended, if anything, he looked sympathetic.

"When those men came in I wasn't here," Sal told him. "I was out back seeing to a delivery."

"Oh no..." Mac whispered as he realised where he was going.

"Este was minding the till," Sal continued, tears in his eyes.

"No..." Mac said in horror.

"At least it was quick," Sal nodded. "He tried to run and get me. They shot him in the back."

Mac tried hard to hold himself together as Sal cried quietly in front of him. This was beyond cruel. Crueller than even Don being taken away in the way he had been. Este had only been eight years old, just starting out in life and to have it cut short like that...it made Mac believe even less in a benevolent God.

"Don't be angry, my friend," Sal said knowingly.

"How can you not be?" Mac asked him.

"Because this is the way things are. Vuolsi così colà dove si puote. It's no use being bitter...who to? It doesn't solve anything. You hurt yourself and those around you."

For once Mac had nothing to say. Despite all his learning, all his intelligence it was this simple, everyday man who had managed to show him how utterly wrong he had been. Maybe God did exist? Maybe he didn't? That was by the by. What did matter was that he was driving himself into an early grave, worrying those around him and destroying any happiness that may be saved from the remains of Don's existence. He needed to pull himself together, Don would always be in his heart but he had to let go of him. He just didn't know how to yet.

* * *

Lovato sat at her desk in the bullpen and once again, as she so often did, glanced over to the empty desk behind hers. Flack's. They hadn't replaced him yet, having only just found four replacements for the other cops that had beaten on him a few months ago. Lovato swallowed as she felt a lump in her throat. She missed Flack a lot, she'd never had a colleague die before and nothing could have prepared her for it. To see Don's body like that, grotesque, mutilated face...head blown off... Lovato gulped and closed her eyes against the burn. She wished Flack was there now, he'd be the one to cheer her up with his cheeky grin and witty comments about something. They'd banter some more about baseball or which rotation Hatcher had put them on. Or they'd place bets on how long it would be before Marchini shouted at Purvis that day, once it had only been three minutes. He eyes suddenly flicked open as she heard mention of Flack's name coming from someone behind her. She frowned and listened in on the conversation.

"That's right. He's the one that died," a female voice said.

"I heard he was marrying the head of the Crime Lab?" a male voice replied.

"That's true. Mac Taylor. Complete and utter prick. The guy loves himself."

"I heard he was an alright sort?"

"Who told you that?" she laughed. "The guy's a queer! You should keep away from him."

"Is that why Flack died?"

"Unfortunately not. He was shot. From what I heard he deserved it. Dirty little faggot that he was..."

Lovato's rage was pure as she shot up from her seat and stormed over to where Rose Callaghan was talking to one of the new detectives.

"You bitch!" she yelled and slammed her fist into her face with as much force as she could muster.

Callaghan's head flew back and then the blonde stumbled backwards, falling over her chair to land on the floor.

The bullpen suddenly went silent; you could have heard a pin drop, every cop in the room staring at the two females.

"Don't you dare talk about him like that! He was worth a million of you. You're not even fit to speak his name!" she yelled, fury in her veins.

Callaghan looked up at her from the floor, nose bloody and possibly broken and she looked scared. Lovato sneered at her in derision.

"Lovato!"

Hatcher's cry echoed round the bullpen as the angry Captain stormed into the room.

"Coming, Cap," Lovato grinned, not even caring what punishment she might be served. Hitting Callaghan had been completely worth it.

"Hey, Lovato," Marchini growled as she passed him by.

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"About time someone did that," he grinned.

"Thanks, Marcs," she replied and followed the Captain out to his office.

* * *

Mac sighed wearily as he plodded heavily down the corridor to his apartment and inserted the key. He'd forgone buying alcohol and instead bought some proper food. Some bread, chicken and fresh vegetables. He'd hated seeing Sal's place looking so destroyed, the people there all so different and unhappy. He guessed he was one of them too now. And yet, and yet Sal still managed to be happy. To see the good in any situation. Mac knew he had to try harder to be like that. He knew that he shouldn't forget Don, that Don would always be a huge part of his life...but he shouldn't just keep hoping...keep waiting to maybe hear his voice. He'd make himself crazy. He pushed opened his door and slammed it behind him, not bothering to take off his shoes and proceeded into his apartment. He froze as he walked past the lounge door and stared in. Don was lazed across the couch, watching TV and eating a bag of potato chips. Mac gazed in apt horror at the scene.

"Hey Mac," Don smiled as he looked up and saw Mac standing in the doorway.

"No," Mac choked. "You're not real...you're not real..."

Don smiled and put the chips on the table. Standing up he started to make his way over towards Mac.

"You're not real...you're not..." Mac murmured. "Just leave me alone!" he yelled and then backed away from the door and fled to the kitchen.

He grasped the counter and started hyperventilating, shopping bag falling to the floor. He squeezed his eyes closed and then opened them before repeating the action a few times. Why was this happening? Why couldn't he control his thoughts better? He'd so wanted to see Don again, had hoped to see him again but this...this was just cruel. He'd been thinking clearly after his chat with Sal, mind set on forgetting these glimmers...and now... Mac slammed a fist down on the countertop and then turned, storming back to the lounge. The room was silent. The TV was off and there was no chip packet, in fact there was no evidence at all to suggest that anyone had been sat watching TV and eating only a few moments before.

* * *

A/N – Thank you to Dante's Inferno for enabling me use a line of Italian in this chapter.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N –I think this may be my favourite chapter, or one of them anyway!

Once again, I do not condone the use of recreational drugs here at all.

Big thanks to reviewers, without you there would be no story.

* * *

**Israel – Chapter Eighteen**

It was late afternoon and Mac sat by his window looking out over the world. He barely moved from that chair anymore, not even to sleep. He hated being alone in that large, cold bed. He could still feel the warmth of Don's body against him sometimes and that terrified him, while simultaneously bringing him contentment. He so wanted Don to be with him there, while at the same time it killed him every time he thought he felt him. He hadn't been out in weeks now, not bothering to dress or wash, ordering food in when he was hungry and ignoring callers. He'd stopped answering his phone and the occasions when there'd be knocking on the door he barely heard, lost in his memories of another time. A time when Don had been alive and life was good. Sal had been wrong, there was no plan or joy in life or the fate men lived by. Life was cruel and man lived to die. Mac blinked his eyes. They felt sore, they always did now and his face was scratchy from where he hadn't shaved in weeks. So maybe other people did suffer heartbreak too. Suffered it even worse than he had...twice. But they hadn't killed their lover. They hadn't looked away as they'd been murdered in front of them. Don's love for him had been his death sentence. Don's love for him had ruined the younger man's life, and always had.

"Mac?"

Mac turned his head ever so slowly to the soft voice he heard calling his name. He hadn't even heard anyone arrive. Maybe no-one had. Maybe it was Don.

"Mac? What have you done to yourself?"

Mac looked at the hand on his shoulder and followed it up the arm to the owner's face.

Stella.

"Oh Mac," she cried and knelt, pulling him against her and hugging him.

"Stella," Mac murmured.

"I've been so worried," she whispered. "No-one's heard from you in weeks. They've been scared...they thought you might have..."

"Stella," Mac murmured again and held her close.

They held each other for a long time. Neither said anything, it wasn't needed, the bond of their long friendship speaking for itself.

"You need sleep," Stella finally spoke up and leant away.

Mac had his eyes closed and barely seemed to hear her. She shook her head and tried desperately not to cry in case he saw. It pained her so much to see him in this state. The once strong, clever and stoic detective so broken and vulnerable. She pulled him up and helped him into the bedroom, where she settled him in the bed. She left briefly to get some sleeping pills and a glass of water, helping Mac to drink them down before staying with him until he fell asleep. He didn't speak once during any of it, like his mind was elsewhere and only his body, his shell, remained.

The next thing Mac was aware of, he was lying in his bed and the last rays of the sun were shining through his window as the star began its decent on another day. Mac pushed himself up. He felt better, his limbs didn't ache as much and the constant pain in his head had gone. He stood and slowly padded out of the bedroom and into the lounge. It was tidy. All the mess of clothes, food remains, packaging, bits of odd papers...everything. It had all gone. Dust had been cleaned off the furniture and the window was open, letting in what the city had to offer in the way of fresh air. Objects had been straightened and Mac was suddenly aware a delicious smell was coming from the kitchen. He turned and walked to the other room and watched as the curly haired woman stirred something at the stove.

"Stella," Mac murmured.

"Well hi there," Stella smiled as she turned. "Good nap?"

"Yes," Mac replied as he went and sat at the counter watching her. "I don't understand."

"That must be a first," she said cheerfully.

Mac almost smiled. "When did you get here?"

"A few hours ago," she replied. "You were sitting by the window. You weren't looking too good, Mac."

Mac didn't reply. There was no need. He was well aware of what state he was in.

"I put you to bed and then cleaned the place up. Then I went to the store and picked you up some food. And here I am now cooking you some dinner."

"Stella," Mac sighed. "You didn't have to..."

"When was the last time you ate a proper meal?" she asked sternly.

Mac furrowed his brow and looked away, avoiding her gaze. "I sometimes order pizza," he mumbled.

"Pizza is not proper food," Stella told him. "You look ill, Mac."

"You never were one to beat around the bush," Mac mumbled.

Stella grinned at him. "Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment."

Mac arched an eyebrow at her.

"So here we are," she smiled, serving out what she'd been cooking and handing him a bowl of hot stew.

"Thanks," Mac nodded and picked up a spoon. He stared into the bowl, not really feeling hungry but knowing he should eat if only to be polite to his dear friend. He tasted a first spoonful and at once felt a warmth spreading through him. He realised his body had been starving and this first mouthful was like the oasis it so craved.

Stella waited with him while he ate, glad he was finally doing something that was good for him, before they both went into the lounge and sat on the couch. Mac leant back and relaxed. He felt better at that moment than he had in a long, long time.

"So talk to me," Stella was saying.

Mac looked at her and sighed.

"Why have you been ignoring your friends, Mac?"

"I see him, Stella," Mac murmured quietly.

Stella's eyes widened in shock and her brow furrowed. "See him?" she repeated.

"I hear him too. He's here, in the apartment."

"Oh, Mac," Stella said sympathetically, shaking her head. "It's not real. You're just imagining him because you miss him so much."

"I never saw Claire," Mac said defensively.

"Claire was different. She was never found. You never saw the...well, you never saw her."

Mac nodded and looked down. First Claire...then Don.

"I miss him so much," he choked. "When I hear him, when I see him...I know he's not real, I know it's impossible...but I never want him to go. I love him so much..."

"That's understandable Mac. How long's it been? Seven weeks nearly? You'll take much longer to get over him than that."

"I don't want to get over him. I don't want him to be gone," Mac said sadly, and Stella could hear the anger that tinged his voice.

"You need to lean on your friends, Mac. Don't shut them out. They care so much about you and want to help."

"They blame me. They blame me for what happened," Mac said bitterly.

"Of course they don't..."

"Danny does!" Mac interrupted. "He hates me. And how can I blame him? I killed his best friend."

"Mac, no, don't say that," Stella cried. The pain she saw in her friend was breaking her heart.

"I'm drowning, Stella, drowning in my own life. Can you ever have too much life? To be starving of oxygen?"

"I don't know," Stella said sadly, unable to answer his question. "But what I do know is that Don wouldn't want you like this. It would break his heart to see what you're doing to yourself. He loved you, Mac. He'd want you to move on, to be happy."

"He never loved me...I betrayed him. I betrayed him so many times. I forced him into our relationship. He didn't want it, he wanted to get on with his life without me. Danny told me."

"And what would Danny know?" Stella suddenly shouted. "Don loved you more than anything, Mac. He told me. He was head over heels for you and nothing he did ever stopped that. And more to the point nothing you did stopped it either."

Mac rubbed his hands over his face as he shook his head. Stella didn't understand, she couldn't.

"I waited too long for him, Stella. Every time he gave himself to me I pushed him away. If only I hadn't...we might have had ten years together at least. This might have never happened. And in the end, in the end maybe I forced him. He said he'd wait, said he still wanted to but...but I just don't know what to believe anymore."

_"Mac? What the fuck?" Don shouted angrily as he stepped inside the door of Mac's apartment, rage behind his eyes._

_"Nice to see you too, Don," Mac replied._

_"Jo told me what happened. That you nearly got killed? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"_

_Mac sighed and sat in his easy chair. "Honestly...I don't know. I didn't tell anyone. I wasn't sure how to cope..."_

_"You coulda come to me," Don snapped._

_"I just needed to think some things through. I needed some time alone._

_"Alone?" Don repeated as he paced up and down. "I see. I see what you're telling me."_

_"What?" Mac asked, frowning._

_"That the other night was all a big mistake. You were upset, drunk off your ass and I was just there. There so you could relieve some of the stress."_

_Mac quickly jumped up and went to Don. "No, Don," he said defiantly. "The other night was not a mistake. Not unless you regret it?"_

_Don pursed his lips in a moment of anger and then relaxed, the tension leaving his body. "I'm sorry, Mac...I just...when I heard..."_

_Mac nodded his head. "I understand. You heard I'd been keeping something from you again, that I'd not trusted you with it so naturally you assumed it was starting all over again."_

_"I'm so sorry, Mac," Don muttered miserably._

_Mac smiled sadly at him and pulled him into a hug. "It's okay, Don. I love you, I really do. I promise."_

_"Then tell me what's going on, Mac? Please?" Don pleaded._

_Mac sighed and sat back in his chair._

_"I'm leaving the lab," he said._

_Don's eyes widened in shock. "You're what? Why?"_

_Mac rubbed his hands over his face. "Because staring at that gun, knowing death was imminent...and then surviving...I asked myself why? Why am I doing this? How long can I keep doing it for?"_

_Don dropped onto the couch and sat starring at Mac, waiting for him to continue._

_"I've done my bit, Don. Solved all my cases. I can't be there forever. I need some time."_

_Don blinked, his eyes watering and he nodded his head. "What about me?" he asked softly._

_Mac sighed again. "All I've wanted since the day I returned from London was to be with you, Don. And I swore I'd wait, I'd be patient and see what happens. Never in a million years did I ever think I'd get another chance, especially after Jess. I know how much you loved her."_

_Don's eyes welled up and he nodded again. "I did...very much."_

_"I never thought I'd ever earn your forgiveness, Don," Mac said honestly._

_"It wasn't hard," Don sighed. "Not after I realised how close I was to losing you a few weeks ago on the Tessa James case."_

_"You don't know how much you mean to me, Don. I love you very much. But right now, what I need is to be by myself. And it has nothing to do with you."_

_"Then why?" Don murmured._

_"Because I feel lost. The lab has been my entire life for so long and I no longer have that. I just need a bit of time to sort myself out, find myself. And I hope that you'll wait for me?"_

_Don blinked and a tear dribbled its way down his cheek. "How long?" he asked._

_"I don't know," Mac replied. "But I want you to know I'm not breaking up with you, Don. If you're still here when I finally find out what I want from life without the lab, then I'll be with you forever. You know that."_

_Don sighed. "This is hard. I love you, Mac. I want to be with you."_

_"I can't, Don, not right now. I just need to be by myself..."_

_Don nodded and another tear fell down his cheek. "I'll wait," he said as he stood up. "I'll wait, Mac. I'll wait forever if I have to."_

"I waited too long. I needed time to get over Claire, sort myself out. By the time I was ready...I'm sure he'd moved on. I made him fall back in love with me," Mac murmured.

"Impossible, he never fell out of love with you," Stella said kindly.

Mac wiped his hands over his face again and Stella glanced at them.

"Where's your ring, Mac?" she asked.

Mac dropped his hands and smirked. "My ring?" he said standing up and going to a draw where he pulled out a small box. "Which one? I have a whole collection now!" he came back to the couch and emptied the box out onto the coffee table. Four rings fell onto it. Claire's. His. Don's. His.

"You know which one," Stella said calmly, picking up the one she knew Mac had chosen together with Don. "You don't take it off until you're ready," she warned. She slid the band onto Mac's left ring finger and held it there. "He's a part of you until you're ready."

"I bought him tickets, you know that?" Mac murmured, almost to himself.

"No?" Stella said, shaking her head.

"I'd bought two tickets to the New York City Ballet for the week after our wedding. They're still in the draw, I couldn't throw them away," Mac said painfully. "When Claire died I had two tickets for the opera that night. It took me ten years to throw them away, to let her go."

"So even if it takes you ten years to let go of Don, it doesn't matter. Don't do it before you're ready, but don't wallow in self pity and misery for the eternity. That's not what Don would want. That's now how he'd want you to remember him."

"I know," Mac muttered. "It's just hard."

Stella nodded sympathetically and stroked a hand over his back. Mac said no more, exhausted from their talk and feeling sleepy once again from the first food he'd consumed in days.

"So Don liked ballet?" Stella asked in an effort to cheer the mood.

"Yes," Mac murmured. "But not Swan Lake."

"What's wrong with Swan Lake?" Stella laughed.

"He hated birds," Mac said.

"He hated birds?" Stella laughed. "That's the funniest thing I've ever heard."

Mac smiled for a moment, remembering when Don had told him his views on Swan Lake himself. Suddenly his face dropped and he paled. His heart thumped inside him and he felt tears making their way to his eyes.

"Mac...Mac what's wrong?" Stella asked worriedly, aware something had happened.

Mac didn't hear her, his mind somewhere else entirely. His mind on Don's words.

_"But Prince Siegfried is an idiot. All he has to do is choose the right girl, make the right choice but he doesn't and because of that he loses Odette."_

Make the right choice...but he doesn't...and because of that he loses the love of his life.

"Oh God!" Mac cried.

Stella couldn't do anything but hold him as Mac finally broke. She'd never seen him cry in all the years she'd known him and it scared her, but at the same time she knew this was what he needed. Mac was finally letting go of all the pain inside him.

* * *

Danny felt happier than he had in a good few weeks. Lindsay was out having taken the kids to spend the night with his mother so he could have a break away from them. That meant no screaming baby, no constant reminder of the disappointment he was now reflected in his daughter's eyes. He knew once Lindsay returned they'd be having a long conversation about what was going on with him but for a few moments he had some peace. He wheeled his chair over to the lounge window and stared out of it at the building opposite. He longed to go out and breathe the fresh air but hadn't in weeks. Lindsay had offered but he'd always declined, not wanting to put her out, not wanting to see the pitying looks they would gain from passers-by. Danny pushed himself closer and with a hefty tug opened the window. He breathed deeply, the smell of the city filling his nostrils and something else, something else that he recognised. Ever so carefully he pushed himself out of his chair and pulled himself up onto the ledge, using his arms to swing his legs out and then shuffling until he was sat on his large window ledge. He smiled as he saw Mr Woo sat in his garden in a deck chair with a parasol attached high above it, beads hanging round the edge of it and his strange bowl pipe in his hand. Weed, that was what he'd smelt mingled in with the city air. Danny waved at him and then sat back, the sun shone brightly onto the ledge and he felt warm, relaxed and he closed his eyes.

"Mister Danny?"

Danny blinked his eyes open and saw that Mr Woo had come over to him and was looking up at him.

"A very bad accident that is," Mr Woo nodded, his face serious.

Danny tried hard not to smile. Mr Woo was being serious and kind to him and yet, his funny way of putting things made Danny feel better about what had happened.

"Hey, Mr Woo. Yeah, I guess it is kinda bad," Danny agreed.

"You would like some?" Mr Woo asked offering Danny up another oriental looking bowl pipe.

Danny looked down at the offering and thought about it. He wasn't a cop anymore, Lindsay and the kids were out, what harm could it do?

"Yeah, thanks," Danny nodded, taking it while Mr Woo lit it for him.

Danny breathed in the smoky fog and once more leant back against the wall behind him. It was so warm in the sun's setting rays and he was reminded of that evening he and Flack had sat out on the ledge, drinking beers and talking excitedly about their futures. He'd been so excited to be a father again, to have a son and Flack had been thrilled at his wedding to Mac. How much things had changed since that innocent chat only a few months ago. Flack now lay in the ground, Mac was doing god knows what to himself according to Lindsay and he was stuck in that wretched chair unable to do anything he wanted, hating his baby boy for coming into the world and replacing his friend. He had tried, God knows he had tried to love the baby, tried to think of it as his son...baby Donny but he couldn't. Just looking at it made him feel sick. Danny inhaled again on the pipe and opened his eye. Colours swam before him, his arms felt heavy, felt like nothing just as his legs did. He felt happy. He laughed at Mr Woo sat in his chair in the garden; the guy was grinning at him and pointing.

"Mister Danny."

"Hey Mr Woo," Danny giggled.

"Mister Danny, you smoke."

"Yeah I smoke," Danny replied. Mr Woo was talking nonsense.

"We all smoke."

"Yeah...yeah...all of us..." Danny laughed, slumping against the wall.

"You like?"

"I love," Danny nodded at the old man.

"I think Mister Danny's friend want some," Mr Woo pointed.

"Friend?" Danny asked and looked beside him. He grinned happily. "Flack, there you are. Want some?"

Flack looked down warily at the pipe.

"Come onnnnn..." Danny giggled. "You said you wanted to, Flack!"

Flack grinned and then accepted the pipe from Danny, putting it to his lips and inhaling.

"See, it's good, isn't it?" Danny smiled.

"Yes, yes...very good," Mr Woo nodded from his deckchair.

"Danno...it's great..." Flack said in awe. He too leant back next to Danny and the two friends sat in contentment together.

"This is great," laughed Danny. "I feel happy."

"I'm happy too, Danno," Flack murmured, smiling at his friend.

"We should have done this more often, I don't know why we didn't," Danny mumbled.

"Work," Flack reminded him.

"Oh yeah," Danny chuckled. "Stupid work."

Flack passed the pipe back to Danny and sighed in pleasure.

"Kinda took over our lives, didn't it?" he said.

"Danny looked over to him. "Yeah...but we always had each other."

"That we did," Flack grinned.

Danny hummed happily and swayed slightly against the wall. "I love this feeling."

"It's so much better than the last time I tried," Flack mused.

"I'd forgotten," Danny smirked.

Flack grinned at him.

"Wish we could stay like this forever," Danny murmured.

"Me too," Flack nodded.

The two friends smiled happily at each other and then looked out over the garden. Mr Woo waved to them and they waved back, giggling with each other as only two best friends could.

* * *

Mac lay in bed, he was exhausted after crying with Stella and completely embarrassed too. He'd never cried in front of anyone before, not even Claire or Don. In fact it was probably only his mother who had ever seen him cry. Stella was now watching TV in his lounge while he rested. He glanced down at his hands and smiled sadly. After she had left him he'd put the rings away, the two of them, but Don's...his precious Don's...he'd put his ring on, next to his own one where he could always be with him. Mac sighed; he had no idea what to do with himself anymore. The guilt he felt was like a heavy weight on his back, a heavy weight pressing on his chest crushing him. He couldn't get Don out of his mind and yet he didn't want to. He'd never felt so many contradictions going on inside him as he had since Don's passing. One half of him desperately wanted to move on with his life, forget about Don and go back to work, to his life. The other half of him wanted to hole up in the apartment forever, living on the memories of a life now lost, of his hopes and dreams now lost. And Stella was telling him to do somewhere inbetween, to never forget, but not to wallow in misery. Mac just didn't see how that would be possible until he could unite himself.

"She's worried about you, you know? They all are."

Mac looked up; Don was perched on the end of his bed, staring at him with sorrow in his eyes.

"I know you're not really here," Mac said logically, attempting to keep his emotions at bay, his chat with Stella strengthening his resolve to move past these illusions.

"I can be if you believe it," Don said wisely.

Mac laughed loudly. "Reality is that which when you stop believing in it, it doesn't go away," he stated coldly.

Don just blinked at him. "Do you want me to go away?"

Mac swallowed and felt sick at the very thought of that. "No..." he finally whispered said resolve breaking easily.

"Then I'll stay," Don replied. "I'll stay as long as you want me to."

"But you can't last forever," Mac whispered. "I can't stay talking to myself forever, because I know that's what this is. I'll go mad."

"Madness is what we suffer for being human," Don replied. "I know I did, I know you have before."

Mac sighed and pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"You're not real, are you?" he tried again.

"I'm as real as you want me to be."

"I don't believe in ghosts," Mac stated. "So what are you? A figment of my imagination? A projected memory? Or have I already lost my marbles and gone crazy?"

Don smiled at him, and it was that goofy, lopsided smiled that made Mac's heart flutter.

"I am whatever you need me to be," he murmured.

"I miss you," Mac finally said after a silence. Whether this was real or not, he no longer cared. This was the longest that Don had appeared to him for and he wasn't going to waste it, he had so much he needed to say, to get off his chest even if talking to an empty room meant that he was crazy.

"I miss you too, Mac. But you already knew that."

"I didn't," Mac said, shaking his head. "I have no doubt in mind that you hate me after what I did."

"You did nothing wrong," Don said. "You chose wisely, logically. A choice I would have made myself."

"But I loved you more," Mac said in a louder tone. "I loved you so much more than Danny."

"So you would feel better now had I survived and Danny died?" Don asked sincerely.

Mac took a deep breath and leant back against the headboard. "I don't know."

"You would deprive a woman of her husband? A little girl of her father? A new born baby of its parent?"

"No..." Mac whispered.

"You're a practical man, Mac. You rarely ever let you're emotions control your actions, that's why it took us ten years to be together. I knew as soon as I heard that you would have to choose that I would die."

"No..." Mac said in horror. Don had known all along.

"I wasn't scared, Mac. I just wish you had made your choice sooner, to save Danny as much pain...and yourself as much guilt."

"I could never have let you go just like that, Don. Not after everything..." Mac stated.

"I would have made the same choice," Don replied. "If our roles had been reversed."

"You're just saying that," laughed Mac. "You're just saying that because I'm imagining you, and I want you to forgive me."

"Really?" Don said knowingly. "Or would your mind make me hate you, like you've been hating yourself, because you believe that's what you deserve?"

Mac blinked up at Don and realised he had been caught out. For once Don had outsmarted him.

"When did you suddenly become so wise?" he asked.

"I learnt from the best," Don smiled.

Mac smiled too and nodded his head. It felt so wonderful to have Don here with him again, even if he knew he wasn't real and that he'd disappear again before long.

"So you knew?" Mac finally said.

Don nodded his head. "You could never have done that to Danny and Lindsay... no more than I could have. I knew my fate was sealed the moment he made you choose."

"I'm so sorry, Don," Mac said, frowning as he felt he could almost cry again.

"I don't blame you, Mac. And if you need my forgiveness then you already have it."

"I don't deserve it. I only deserve penance," Mac said miserably.

"No," Don said severely. "I don't want you to seek revenge for what happened to me. No payback, just do your job. And that's done, Bedford is dead. So you need to stop doing this to yourself, seeking revenge on yourself. I don't blame you."

Mac nodded and watched Don carefully, studying his features, grateful for another chance to look at his handsome face, his wonky smile, his oversized nose, his bright blue eyes. It felt as though he was falling in love with them all over again. Don was perfect and he'd never get tired of just watching him, real or imaginary.

"I have to go now," Don stated, watching Mac watch him.

"I knew this couldn't last," Mac stated.

"I'll come back, if you want me too," Don replied.

"When my mind decides to play crazy again," Mac joked.

"You never were very funny," Don grinned and Mac smiled at him.

"Don?"

"Yes, Mac?"

Mac furrowed his brow as he tried to order what he wanted to say.

"What was the last thing you thought? That went through your head when you heard me say...when you knew..."

Don tilted his head for a moment and then smiled at Mac in sorrow.

"Regret," he answered truthfully and Mac took a breath in. "Regret that I would never get to be your husband. It was the only thing I ever truly wanted out of life."

And then he was gone, and Mac was looking out into his empty bedroom. Yet this time, things were different. His heart may have still felt pained that Don had just been a part of his imagination. But he felt lightened, and a little less guilty of the decision he'd made. His mind was slowly healing him.

* * *

A/N - Flashback from 7x22

Thanks to Philip K. Dick for a quotation used in this chapter.

Anyone notice a line from 8x18?


	19. Chapter 19

A/N - Ooooo... only two to go...

* * *

**Israel – Chapter Nineteen**

Danny sat in his chair staring numbly at the game being played on the TV. He couldn't get worked up about it and what did it matter anyway? One team would win and one team would lose, or there would be a draw but life would go on, the outcome barely affecting him, sat in his apartment in his chair. Danny blinked as someone scored but he didn't know who. He wasn't really watching. He wasn't really doing much of anything at all. Suddenly a loud cry came over the baby monitor and Danny slowly turned his head to stare at it. Lindsay had said she wouldn't be long in the store with Lucy. She was supposed to be home any minute. Danny stared at the monitor. The baby was crying even louder. It probably needed to be changed or fed. Danny stared at the monitor. The TV buzzed with cheering as someone else scored an ineffectual and meaningless goal. Danny stared at the monitor. The baby was crying. Danny tilted his head. The baby was crying.

Danny slowly turned his head back again to look straight forward and set his hands on his wheels. He rolled himself down the hallway and in through the door to the nursery. The baby was screaming its head off. Danny watched it from a distance at the door. It needed to be comforted but he just couldn't bring himself to go anywhere near it. It didn't belong in this life. It didn't deserve to be here. Flack had died...Flack was dead and instead a disgusting and suffocating thing hadreplaced him. Danny glowered at the baby...at his baby. He hated it. God, he hated it so much. If it wasn't here then Flack would still be alive.

"Shut up!" Danny suddenly shouted, hands curling into fists.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" he screamed, rage pouring from him.

He wheeled slightly nearer, though still keeping his distance.

"You're not Don! You're not Don!" he yelled angrily.

The baby wailed on, the screaming getting louder and louder.

"You're not Don! You're not Don! You're not Don!" he cried, rage blinding any compassion he once had.

"You're not Don! You're n..."

Lindsay rushed past him and picked the baby up out of the cot. She cradled it to her chest and began soothing it with her voice. She turned and Danny could see her glaring daggers at him. She looked disgusted with him. Danny couldn't bring himself to care. He felt empty, emotionless, blank. He turned and wheeled himself away from the scene. He didn't belong in there, not with his beautiful wife and the baby. He heard Lucy playing in her room, content without him. They didn't need him...or want him. Nobody did.

"Danny? What was that?" Lindsay asked furiously as she emerged from the nursery.

"What was what?" Danny muttered, not looking at her.

Lindsay paced round his chair and held onto it so he couldn't go anywhere. She looked directly into his eyes.

"Why did you scream at Donny?"

"He's not!" spat Danny.

"He's not what, Danny?" Lindsay cried. "He's not Flack?"

"Of course he's not Flack!" Danny yelled.

Lindsay shook her head at him and straightened up. "Do you even hear yourself? Flack's dead, Danny, I'm sorry but he is and there's nothing anyone can do about it, not me, not Mac and not you. And his passing has nothing to do with Donny. He's just a tiny baby, Danny. What did he ever do to you?"

"He's alive!" Danny shouted at her.

Lindsay froze in disgust at his vehemence towards his son, hating his existence for being just that, existing.

"You wanted him, Danny. You wanted a son. You were so happy," she said, tears in her eyes. "I don't even recognise you anymore. Flack would be ashamed."

"Don't you tell me what he'd be, you weren't his best friend, you didn't know him like I did..."

"No, but I was still his friend. And I may not have been as close to him as you, but I sure as hell know he'd never want you to hurt an innocent baby, to despise it claiming to do so in his memory!"

Danny stared bitterly at her and then turned himself away.

"No you don't, I'm not finished," Lindsay shouted and walked round him, blocking his path. "I need to know, Danny. It's been over two months now and nothing's changed. So I need to know if this is how it is, from now on. Is this all we can expect from you? Is this all Lucy and Donny can expect from you?"

Danny stared at her again. "This is what I am, Linds. A bitter and resentful cripple. So get used to it," he snarled.

Lindsay nodded her head and brushed her tears away, breathing deeply to calm herself.

"Then I don't think I can do this anymore between us, Danny," she said as calmly as she could muster.

Danny didn't even feel shocked. He knew this had been coming, that he was unnecessary to her happiness.

"Fine," he replied.

"Fine?" Lindsay said in amazement. "Six years of marriage and that's all you have to say?"

"What do you expect me to say, that I want you to stay? That I'll change?"

Lindsay held a hand to her face as she tried to think, emotion clouding her judgement.

"Can you ever love Donny, that's all I need to know?" she asked slowly.

Danny thought for a moment, glancing in the direction of the nursery before replying.

"No."

Lindsay nodded. "Then I need to put my children first. I need to put their happiness and safety first. I'm gonna take them to stay with Adam for a bit," she said.

Danny smirked and laughed. "Adam...I should have known. He's just been hankering for a chance to get in with you ever since I've known him."

"Adam got engaged to Michelle, Danny," Lindsay said coldly. "And you would know that if you were a good friend."

Then she turned and walked off to Lucy's room, well aware of the quiet snivels coming from the young girl's room, her daughter having clearly heard their every word.

* * *

Mac walked with the tall man to his front door, opening it for him and letting him out into the corridor. Since his chat with Stella and then his imaginary chat with Don he'd started seeing his friends again. Jo had been round and so had Sid and Hawkes. Stella was now back in New Orleans but he knew she'd left her key with Jo so that he was unable to shut himself off from them all again. Two days ago Sam had come round asking if she might look through her brother's belongings and asked if Henry might come around again too. Of course he had let her, and though he knew it would be hard to see Henry again, due to his likeness to Don, he'd told her that of course his twin could come round too. Sam had informed him Henry had accepted the job in the Bronx and his wife and daughter would be flying out next week to join him and Mac was pleased for the young man.

"Thanks again for this, Mac," Henry smiled at him and Mac nodded as he stared at that wonky grin.

"That's fine, Henry. If you want to come by again please do so."

"I might, I only have a few things of Donny's, mainly from when we were kids but nothing recent," Henry said sadly.

"Don would want you to have those things," Mac nodded. "No-one else I know supports the Jets, Yankees or Rangers so he'd be pleased they're going to a good home."

Henry had taken a lot of Don's old sporting memorabilia as Mac wasn't really into that himself and it's not like he could have given it to Danny now. No, Henry was the perfect one to take those things.

"Oh hey, I got something for you," Henry smiled as he put down his box and fished about in his bag. "Here."

Mac looked down at the old VHS tape that Henry shoved into his hands before he picked up the box again.

"What is it?" Mac asked.

"Fast forward to about one hour and fourteen minutes and you'll see," Henry laughed waggling his eyebrows before leaving.

Mac sighed and shut the door before going back into the lounge.

"I see you're getting rid of my stuff."

Mac looked up and saw Don sat on the windowsill looking sadly at the boxes that contained his life.

"Not that it matters because I have you to remind me you're still here," Mac stated, taping a finger to his temple.

"You're not crazy, Mac," Don informed him. "Maybe this is just your way of dealing with my passing."

Mac arched one eyebrow in thought. "It's possible," he agreed. "Except I don't think talking to yourself or having visions of your dead lover are classed as dealing with things."

"Why not?" Don asked. "Are you not feeling better?"

"I'm feeling better because of Stella," Mac stated. "Because she made me realise I couldn't shut myself away. "And talking with Henry and Sal and Jo... all these people have helped."

"I'll go then," Don murmured.

"No!"

Don smiled at Mac and then glanced towards the door. "Was Hen here?"

Mac nodded in confirmation. "Why did you never tell me about him?"

Don tilted his head at Mac. "He hurt me."

"No more than I did after the explosion or with Peyton and you forgave me," Mac stated.

"You were easy to forgive," Don stated.

"Seems like I may have forced you into forgiving me," Mac murmured, thinking back to another time.

_Mac stared up into the sky as it started to rain, 'a sign from God' he thought. God had been with them a lot today. He and Don had got on well on this case, Don had even made a genuine joke about the 'nutters on the ark' and he'd laughed at that, even if he disagreed. What was it he'd said to Don? Oh yes._

_'Maybe their personal belief is so strong it overrides their better judgement. After all faith is the foundation of religion.'_

_Mac hadn't been talking entirely about religion when he'd said that and he wondered if Don had noticed. He'd followed his better judgement and ended up with Peyton whom he loved very much. She was just like Claire, except something was missing and he couldn't put his finger on what exactly that was. But then, he had personal belief too, and it continually vied with his better judgement for controlling his actions. His belief was that despite how in love with Peyton he was, she'd never be Don. Why was it that whenever he thought he was doing the right thing about the people he cared for, he never seemed to be happy. And he could never get that tall, dark-haired detective off his mind. Not for the last five years had he managed to get him off his mind._

_Mac took a cab to Don's apartment for the second time in so many weeks and trudged up the stairs to the right floor. He was sopping wet and his clothes felt heavy on him. As he banged on the door he wondered if Don recognised his knock by now. If he had, then it clearly hadn't put him off as the door opened and Don stood there in a pair of dark jeans and a grey sweater. He looked handsome without his suit on._

_"I think I'm gonna have to move..." Don muttered as he saw who it was._

_"I'm a cop, Don," Mac stated as he pushed into the apartment..._

_Don sighed irritably and followed Mac into his lounge. "So why are you here this time?"_

_Mac rubbed his hands over his face. He had no idea how to tell Don that he wanted him again. That he'd made a mistake again. Why on earth would Don believe him this time?_

_"I'm leaving Peyton, Don. I don't love her."_

_Don just stared at him blankly. "So?"_

_"So you know why I'm telling you this."_

_Don shook his head a laughed in disbelief. "Oh right. So I'm supposed to believe you this time. Take your word for it. Let me guess, you've made a mistake and finally seen the error of your ways so you want to make it up to me?"_

_Mac pursed his lips. He'd known this would happen._

_"I'm not gonna let you use me again, Mac. You've hurt me too many times before. I deserve better."_

_"How can I prove to you I mean it?"_

_Don smiled sadly. "I...I don't think you can."_

_"I'll do anything. Just say it."_

_"Mac..." Don murmured and stepped towards the older man. "I want so much to believe you..."_

_"Then do, Don. Just do. I promise."_

_A tear appeared in Don's eye and he looked down._

_"I've never stopped loving you," Mac said quietly._

_Don looked up. "I'm scared, Mac. I'm scared you'll hurt me again. I can't... I just can't..."_

_"Shhshh, yes you can. You can, Don. I love you."_

_Mac moved closer so they were almost touching. His hand was so close to Don._

_"Mac..." Don murmured and he sounded so small, so scared. Mac had never heard him like that._

_"I'm here, Don. I always will be."_

_Don leant down onto Mac and slowly both men turned their head, lips getting closer and closer until they touched. Unlike the last time they got back together which was wanton and needy, this time it was softer, more gently, as if love were controlling their actions rather than desperation._

_"I love you, Mac," Don said softly._

_"I know you do. I love you too. I'm going to earn back your trust, Don. If it's the last thing I do..."_

_Don kissed him again._

"I'm sorry, Don" Mac mumbled. "For everything I did to you back then. For the way I treated you. The way I used you. I wanted Peyton but I wanted you and I couldn't decide. In the end I think I hurt both of you. She always knew there was something. Never what it was...but she wasn't stupid."

Don watched Mac carefully. "You never forced me, Mac. You may have hurt me but you never forced me. Every time we got back together I wanted it to. I loved you."

"Even the last time?" Mac said, unconvinced.

"The last time?" Don frowned.

Mac stared at him. "If you're supposedly real then tell me this...is what Danny said to me true? Did I force you into our relationship? Did I leave you no choice but to fall in love with me that last time?"

Don stared back at him. "Do you really not remember... or is this selective memory?"

"You're the memory," Mac scoffed.

Don shook his head and then stood up. "Who was it who instigated us getting back together, Mac? When we finally became a proper couple?"

Mac frowned as he remembered that day...that night when he'd been given another chance by Don.

_He'd had been pissed. He'd been so fucking angry when he'd got Don's message that Raymond Harris had turned up at the precinct. He was messing with him, playing with him. He'd obviously remembered Don from the diner and had specifically targeted him to go to with his crap about being attacked. That had angered Mac more than anything else, almost more than him destroying the lab. At least then he'd only been after him and Bill, despite others being hurt. But then he'd specifically picked Don out of all the cops in New York. Mac had warned Don after Harris had left to be careful. He couldn't have lived with himself had anything happened to the younger detective. _

_But it hadn't. Harris had been quite clear as to whom his intended targets had been and he'd got them. Bill now lay dead in the morgue...and Mac felt so angry, betrayed, sad, hurt... He also felt alone. Alone and unsure of himself. He'd looked up from Bill's dead body and seen Don there, the man he loved, the man he was...hell, he didn't know what he was doing with Don._

_Mac stood from his couch and swayed as all the alcohol he'd consumed went to his head._

_"Fuck!" he screamed and smashed his fist into the nearest wall. He screamed out in pain when it ached like a mother..._

_"Mac?" Don's voice shouted through the door as he banged on it. "Mac, are you okay?"_

_Mac stumbled to the door and flung it open without even greeting the younger man. He tripped back to his couch and fell down onto it. He heard the door close and then Don was standing over him._

_"Mac, what happened?"_

_Don was kneeling at his side, examining his hand._

_"Bill's dead..." Mac spat as he felt tears burn in his eyes._

_"I know..." Don murmured as he disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a cloth._

_"He fucking betrayed me, Don. He stole the money..."_

_Don glanced up at Mac worriedly as he wiped the blood from his hand._

_"He wasn't a bad man, Mac," Don said._

_"Harris blamed us. He knew Bill had killed Miranda..."_

_"Mac, it's not your fault."_

_"Don't fucking patronise me, Don," Mac snarled and pulled his hand away._

_Don shook his head and disappeared again to get a bandage from Mac's bathroom. When he returned he knelt on the floor beside Mac and grabbed his hand again, starting to wrap it up._

_"I wasn't patronising you, Mac. I know what it's like to be betrayed by someone you trust. Moran...Truby...believe me I understand."_

_Mac blinked and though his mind was fuzzy he realised that Don would indeed understand what he was going through more than anyone else._

_"I'm sorry, Don," he muttered ashamedly._

_"That's alright," Don smiled as he finished wrapping up Mac's knuckles. Mac looked down at his work and Don suddenly brought the hand up to his lips and placed a kiss over the bandage. Mac watched and then moved his hand to the back of Don's head and pulled him close, kissing him. It was the first time they'd kissed since the night they'd slept together after Andrew Bedford had been caught. Mac held on tightly to Don's head and pulled him nearer. He heard Don whimper as he pushed his tongue into his mouth._

_"I fucking love you, Don, you know that right?" Mac murmured as he pulled back but still held Don close._

_"I know," Don whispered back and then he kissed Mac. His arms wrapped around Mac's shoulders and pulled him tight to his body._

_"God, I'm so glad you're here," Mac cried as they broke apart once more and Don's head dropped to rest on Mac's shoulder. Mac cradled him against his body, clinging desperately to him._

_"I love you, Mac," Don whispered into his ear._

_Mac turned his head and kissed whatever part of Don's face his lips could reach._

_"Don't ever me leave again," Don cried softly._

_"I won't. I promise. As long as you never leave me."_

_Don pulled his head up and stared Mac straight in the eye. "I want you tonight, Mac. I need you. And I know you need me too... I know you want me..."_

_Mac gulped and stared into the younger man's solemn, wide blue eyes. He'd waited so long to hear those words fall from Don's soft, pink lips. So fucking long. But his mind was swimming with alcohol tonight and he didn't want anything to happen that Don might regret. He loved him too much to do that to him again. _

_"Don..."_

_"I love you, Mac. I've been fighting with myself for so long to keep away from you...but I can't."_

_Mac stroked a hand down his cheek. "If you'd only known how long I've waited..."_

_Don pressed his lips into Mac's hand._

_"But..." Mac murmured._

_"No buts, Mac. Just fuck me," Don said sincerely. "Just fuck me."_

_"Come here," Mac murmured as he pulled Don in for another kiss, and this time he wouldn't let go._

"You..." Mac whispered, almost scared to voice the word in front of Don.

"Me," Don nodded. "Because I wanted to, because I'd never stopped loving you."

"But I made you wait...after that night...I made you..."

"You never made me do anything. I waited because I chose to...because I wanted to...because I loved you," Don said sincerely.

"But I wasted those four months...four months we could have..."

"Mac."

It was just one word whispered quietly but it stopped Mac in his tracks.

"You needed time to say goodbye to Claire. To gather yourself and I understood that. I still do."

"Why do I suddenly feel like I've become the pupil and you the teacher?" Mac asked.

"Maybe I was always cleverer than you gave me credit for," Don replied, smiling goofily just as Henry had done moments before.

"If you were so clever you'd have made up with your brother," Mac stated.

Don's smile disappeared and he nodded thoughtfully.

"You always were the cleverest, Mac," he murmured as he walked towards the door to the hallway. "And don't ever watch that," he added, nodding to the tape still in Mac's hand. Then he was gone.

Mac took a deep breath and sighed. He always felt saddened and alone when his vision of Don had gone. But at least he knew now he hadn't forced Don into anything. And that meant more than the world to him.

* * *

Lindsay had left four hours ago and Danny was now sat alone in the quiet lounge. The TV was off for once, he was so sick of the shows it had to offer and he felt numbed to her leaving. There was no patter of his daughter's footsteps, no crying of the baby, no warm feeling of Lindsay being close. He was alone now, and for the first time he thought of Mac. How Mac must be feeling being alone, having lost Flack. Maybe he'd been wrong to shout at Mac, the guy was probably feeling guilty enough without him adding to it...but then...he had killed Flack. Danny sighed, it would have been better if he'd died himself instead. Lindsay didn't need him anyway.

He rolled himself over to the counter and glanced at the pile of post she'd placed there this morning and had not had time to open. He pulled down the top letter and ripped it open, feeling slightly satisfied with the action. It was a letter for Lindsay about a job offer at Flack's YMCA. Danny skimmed through it, it basically said that there were no administrative positions available for her at that time and then listed the current vacancies they did have. Danny laughed, it wasn't like she needed a job there now anyway, she was going back to the lab and replacing him. He was just a useless piece of crap, unable to support his family, to work, to look after Lucy and Lindsay...he couldn't even love his own child. Suddenly something caught his eye and he frowned, reading the letter more closely. His heart jumped a little and suddenly he felt a small glimmer of hope. Maybe he should call Lindsay. A loud knock on the door distracted him before he had a chance to. He wheeled himself over and opened it. Adam was there and he pushed past to get inside and then turned to face him.

"What the hell do you want?" Danny scowled.

"I want to try and knock some sense into you," Adam stated his face quite serious.

Danny sniggered at him. "Get out of here," he muttered and wheeled himself away from Adam.

"No!" Adam said bravely, still somewhat scared of the man he was facing.

"What?!" Danny snapped.

"I said no," Adam repeated. "I'm not going anywhere until you see what you're doing is wrong."

"Oh what I'm doing is wrong?" Danny muttered sarcastically. "I'm not the one shacking up with someone else's wife and kids," he spat.

Adam shook his head sadly at the man Danny was fast becoming. "I'm engaged to Michelle, Danny. Lindsay is like a sister to me and I don't want her to get hurt."

"Oh, come on," Danny said menacingly. "You expect me to believe that? I know you've always had a thing for my wife. You just couldn't wait for us to have a fight and then in you swoop like some sort of human vulture!"

Adam didn't rise to it, he knew he was better than that. "Believe what you want about me, Danny, but know that you're only hurting Lindsay and she doesn't deserve it."

"If she didn't want to hurt she should have stayed by my side!" Danny yelled.

"Why?" Adam shouted back, though in a much softer tone than Danny was using. "Why should she stay somewhere she isn't appreciated, and somewhere that makes her scared for her children's lives?"

Danny's jaw dropped open and he stuttered for a moment. "I would never hurt my kids," he ground out.

"Even Donny?" Adam retorted.

Danny looked away, unable to say anything. It was true, he hadn't made any effort with Donny, not that he would ever have hurt him.

"You weren't the only one who lost a friend, Danny," Adam said softly. "I miss Flack too...but if you blow your family than he will have died in vain. Mac chose you because you were the one with the family, the one who had others who needed you. If you throw that all away, then Flack's death was pointless."

Danny pursed his lips, knowing Adam was right.

"Lindsay doesn't want me anymore, Adam. I'm pathetic. She needs to move on from me, find someone who can support her and love the kids...both of them."

"Won't you give it a try at least?" Adam said sadly. "She's in tears right now back at my place being comforted by Michelle."

"She deserves better, she always had," Danny muttered and then wheeled himself over to the cabinet and took out a bottle of vodka. "Tell her she's made the right decision," Danny said over his shoulder as he poured himself a glass.

Adam stared at him and felt his heart break at the broken life of his friend.

* * *

Henry plodded his way through the damp grass to where he knew his family lay, he hadn't been there in years but knew he had to see his father, his mother and now his little brother, all of whom had been buried without his knowledge. He'd been to the cemetery as a small boy with Donny and they'd played under the trees whilst their father had whispered silently to a stone he now realised was the grave of his grandfather. He paused as the stones came into view, a whole long line of Flacks now. He knew Grams often paid her husband and son a visit here and that Sammie occasionally would come by to see their mother. How awful for them now, Sammie had been so close to Donny before his death and Grams had now buried a husband, a son and a grandson. Henry sighed and made his way over.

"Hey Gramps, Dad, Mum...Donny," He murmured as he knelt down, ignoring the damp that soaked into his trouser legs. "You remember me? It's Henry. I've come home..."

Henry sighed again and fiddled with his hands. This was hard.

"I'm sorry we argued Dad and Mum, I'm sorry I broke your hearts by leaving...I never meant to...I just needed to follow my path. I wanted to help people...and I did. I think you'd be proud. I helped a lot of people, a lot of people much worse off than anything I'd ever imagined."

Henry smiled and then his gaze drifted to the stone on the end of the row, the stone so new it was still spotlessly clean in comparison to the others. Henry stood and moved across to stand before it and then knelt down again.

"Hey Donny," he sniffed and felt tears spike in his eyes. He couldn't believe he was having this conversation with his brother lying in the ground. He'd never imagined in a thousand years that this would happen.

"It's me...it's Hen. I've moved back Donny, I got a job in the Bronx and I'm staying in New York."

Henry paused as he felt the full force of his tears overwhelm him. His little brother was dead, little Donny, his twin, his partner, his identical.

"I'm so sorry I never came back before. I wanted to so much..." he stopped talking, unable to continue through his tears.

"So why didn't you?"

Henry looked up and saw Don standing just behind his gravestone. He didn't gasp in shock at the apparition or feel scared or stupid for seeing his dead brother. It never entered his mind that this was a memory or the result of an overactive imagination or even his mind playing tricks on him. He was a man of God and the spiritual world was something he devoutly believed in.

"Donny?" he murmured.

"I told you, it's Don now," Don stated.

"You'll always be Donny to me," Henry smiled.

"Why didn't you come back?" Don asked. "Or at least contact me...anything to let me know you were alive?"

"I don't know...I was angry. I was upset at not having any of you accept me for who I was. I loved being Africa, I loved my job and to have you all turn away from me hurt me, Donny," Henry murmured.

"I didn't want you to go," Don replied.

"I wouldn't have," Henry stated. "If you'd stuck up for me I would have taken a position somewhere in the city."

"I couldn't, Hen," Don muttered sadly. "I needed to stick by Mum and Dad. They were never the same after you left. Neither was I. We lost a part of us that day."

"Then you should have stood by me, Donny. I stood by you, I never once judged you for being gay, for sneaking Eric into your bedroom when you thought no-one knew."

"You knew about Eric?" Don asked, smiling shyly.

"Course I did. I knew everything about you. You were my other half, Donny."

"Did you feel as empty as I did when you left?" Don asked quietly.

"I felt like part of me had died. Like I'd lost myself. It took me a long time to get settled again," Henry replied.

"Me too," Don nodded.

"Why didn't you look for me?" Henry asked. "You were a cop..."

"I did," Don replied, shocking Henry. "I found you, Hen. I wrote a letter but..."

"But what?" Henry asked.

"I never sent it. I was a coward. I thought you hated me, and being unsure of that fact was better than knowing it to be true."

"I never hated you, Donny," Henry stated, getting up. "I thought you hated me."

"I was upset but I never hated you, I just felt lonely."

"I'm sorry, Donny," Henry said earnestly.

"I'm sorry too, Hen," Don replied.

"I wish..." Henry sighed. "I wish we could have made up before...before..."

Don smiled sympathetically. "Me too."

"I'm married now, Donny," Henry smiled. "I have a daughter too."

"I wish I could have married," Don murmured.

Henry stood up and came forward towards Don, only the gravestone separating the twins, like a border between two realms.

"I love you, Don," Henry said solemnly, tears falling down his cheeks.

"I love you too, Henry," Don replied. "And I'm proud of you. Just like I know Dad would have been too."

* * *

A/N – Flashbacks from 3x17 and 7x21


	20. Chapter 20

A/N - Big thanks to reviewers - you have made this story!

* * *

**Israel – Chapter Twenty**

Danny wheeled his chair to the edge of the abyss and looked over. It would be so easy. So easy just to fling himself over. He wouldn't even feel it. Half his body was dead anyway. He was useless, pathetic, not needed. A hindrance to all those around him. To his family. Lindsay would get over him. She had left him anyway, two weeks and he'd not spoken a word to her. She'd find another man, a better man. A man who would make her happy. The kids would need a Dad who could walk, one who could play ball in the park with them, who could take them for walks, who could carry them on his shoulders. He was nothing. Nothing more than a barrier to his family's happiness. It would be so easy. Just a quick push out of his chair...and then nothing. Like him. Nothing.

"Don't do it, Danno."

Danny looked up and gasped. Flack was sat on the edge of the building, staring out at the horizon, his long legs dangling over the edge of the building and down towards the street below.

"You're not real...you can't be," Danny choked.

Flack didn't look at him.

"It's not your time yet, Danno."

Danny smirked in hatred and bitterness. "It's not your decision, Flack."

"Do not seek death, Danno. For death will find you when your time has come. I know that better than anyone."

"Death is not the greatest of evils; it is worse to want to die, and not be able to," Danny replied.

"Lindsay needs you," Flack murmured, ignoring the jibe.

Danny laughed. "She doesn't need me anymore than I need a bicycle."

"You undervalue yourself. You always have."

Flack's hair waved in the wind and Danny watched it, mesmerised.

"I'm nothing now. Nobody needs this."

"Lindsay does. So does Lucy. So does Don."

"Don's dead!" Danny screamed, tears pricking his eyes.

Flack didn't even bother to turn and look at him.

"Your son needs you, Danno. Someone has to teach him right from wrong. That there is more to this world than bitterness and resentment. It's so easy to get caught up in all the hate and evil that exists in the world. You love Lindsay and she loves you more than you'll ever realise. Teach Don to love, to appreciate all the good there is."

Danny felt tears falling down his face. "How can I do that, Flack? You more than anyone should know there's no good in this place."

"You're good, Danno. You've spent your entire life doing good, helping others, destroying the evil that exists. Without people like you evil would triumph."

"I can't, Flack. You don't understand. You're not here anymore. I can't...I can't do this...she needs something more than me. She needs someone who can truly be a father to her kids."

"And who better to do that than their father?"

Danny shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "I don't want to be here..."

"You have to fight, Danno. You're giving up too easily. Sometimes even to live is an act of courage."

"You don't understand..."

"You're right...I don't understand. I died that day. Life ended for me and I didn't have to live on to deal with the consequences of what happened."

"Flack, I..." Danny said in regret.

"What would I have done if I'd survived, Danno? What if you'd been the one to die and I had lived?"

Danny blinked as more tears rolled down his face. "You're stronger than me, Flack. You always were."

"I would have lived my life to the fullest. I would have lived for the both of us. I wanted children, Danno. I wanted marriage and love. I wanted you're life, I always did."

"You did, Flack. You had Mac..."

Flack's head looked down at the street. "I wasn't allowed, Danno. I would have been happy with Mac. I loved him like no other. I've never looked forward to anything more than our wedding, our future together. I imagined us adopting a boy. I always wanted a son."

"Oh, Flack..." Danny cried, his heart breaking.

"I wasn't allowed though. It wasn't God's plan for me to have that. But you do, Danno. Don't throw that away."

"How am I supposed to look after them like this?" Danny admitted helplessly.

"By living," Flack replied. He turned his head and smiled at Danny, blue eyes twinkling... before he fell.

"Flack!" Danny screamed...

He jolted awake in his bed, sweat dripping down his head and arms trembling.

"Flack?" he whispered out into the dark and he pushed himself up and turned on the bedside light.

"Oh God," he cried as he looked round at the empty room, devoid of any other person, of his wife. "What have I done?"

He suddenly felt sick, he was losing Lindsay, he'd driven her away with his misery and bitterness. And yet...and yet he didn't want to lose her, not really. He loved her and he loved his daughter and Flack was right. He needed to try with his son, to love him for who he was, an individual and not a replacement for another life. He couldn't lose them, he realised that now. Flack was always right. He pushed himself to the edge of the bed swinging his legs over with his hands and then got into his chair. He needed to see her now before it was too late, before he lost her forever. He wheeled himself into the lounge and then paused. How the hell was he going to do this? He couldn't get out of his building let alone find his way over to Adam's by himself. He'd more than likely get mugged now that the sun was beginning its descent on the day and he was an easy target in his chair. Something caught his eye from outside and he wheeled himself over to window, pushing it open. Mr Woo was sat outside in his deckchair, staring up at the slowly darkening sky.

"Mr Woo!" Danny yelled waving his arms at him.

"Mister Danny, what the matter?" Mr Woo asked, looking over at the young man.

"I need your help, Mr Woo. I need to find my wife!"

"Ahh, spilt water is hard to retrieve," Mr Woo nodded.

"What?" Danny frowned, utterly confused. "Look, do you have a car? I need to get to my friend's apartment. It's an emergency."

"Yes, I have car," Mr Woo nodded. "You need drive find wife?"

"Err yeah," Danny agreed.

"Wait and I get you," Mr Woo smiled and then disappeared inside his house.

Danny hoped he hadn't been smoking too much pot that evening. He wheeled himself back towards the door and grabbed his keys before opening it and wheeling himself out into the hallway. He pulled it closed and then went over to the front door to the street. He got it open and went out onto the top step where he waited for Mr Woo. A minute later the elderly gentleman appeared, long robe flapping round his ankles and came up the steps.

"You need help, Mister Danny?"

"Yeah," Danny nodded, as if it wasn't obvious.

Mr Woo grinned and slowly helped him down the steps and then he turned and wheeled Danny round the corner to the most ridiculous looking car he'd ever seen. It was ancient and ramshackle, like it would be better suited to taking up permanent residence in a junkyard.

"Come on, Mister Danny, man who waits for roast duck to fly into mouth must wait very, very long time."

"What?" Danny gawped at him again but accepted Mr Woo's help to getting into the passenger seat and then Mr Woo folded up the chair and pushed it into the back before getting into the driver's seat.

"We go now," he grinned and then stepped on the accelerator. The car surged forward and Danny grabbed hold of the dash in front of him.

"You direct," Mr Woo stated as they drove at some speed through the streets.

Danny nodded and told Mr Woo where to go, the elderly man zooming up and down streets, not slowing for corners, the tyres screeching loudly, whizzing past the other cars, Danny holding on for dear life as he lost nearly twenty years off it all in the space of ten minutes.

"Slow down," he yelled at Mr Woo. "Where'd you learn to drive?"

"I not learn," Mr Woo exclaimed. "I not drive before."

Danny paled as he stared at Mr Woo. "Never?" he squeaked.

"Only once in tank."

Danny didn't even want to know what Mr Woo had been doing driving a tank and simply clung on as the car almost flew all the way to Adam's apartment block. Mr Woo pulled up to the curb and shut off the engine, helping Danny out into his chair and then wheeling him to the door. The buzzer for Adam's apartment was too high for him to reach so Mr Woo pressed it for him. No-one answered. Danny realised they were probably all having dinner at this time. Finally Adam's voice answered.

"Adam, it's Danny, let me in!" Danny shouted.

"Are you drunk?" Adam replied, he sounded irritated.

"No, but I just had an epiphany. Thank Flack. But I need to see Lindsay."

"Err...I think she's gone out..." Adam started to say and then there was a slight scuffle and murmuring before another voice came over the speaker.

"Danny?"

"Yeah, babe. It's me," Danny said excitedly.

"I'm kinda busy..."

"I don't care. I need to see you," Danny said hurriedly.

"Fine. Wait there I'll come down."

The intercom shut off and Danny wheeled himself a bit away from the door.

"I wait in car," Mr Woo stated and then turned back to the ramshackle vehicle. A moment later Lindsay appeared from the doorway.

"Danny, what are you doing here?" she sighed.

She looked tired and thin. She'd obviously been crying earlier and her eyes were still red. At once the excitement Danny had been feeling from his epiphany disappeared and he realised how deadly serious the situation was. It was make or break time.

"Linds," he said softly. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry."

Lindsay stared at him. "How do I even know you mean that?" she asked.

"I mean it, I do," Danny yelped. "Look..." he sighed as he tried to find the right words. "I know I've not been easy recently."

"That's one way to put it," Lindsay snarked.

Danny nodded, he deserved that. "Something happened tonight, Linds. Something that made me realise just how precious you are to me. Just how much you mean to me and how much I need you. I can't lose you, Linds, I just can't."

Lindsay sighed wearily and walked to the small wall outside the front of the building and sat on it, Danny wheeled himself over next to her.

"Danny...I'm not sure I can. The last few months...they've been so hard," she murmured with tears in her eyes. "I've felt like I've been stretched thin, recovering from giving birth, looking after Lucy, after Donny, after you and dealing with all the bills, attempting to get back to the lab so we have some money, organising someone to come and alter the apartment so things are easier for you..."

Danny felt a huge amount of guilt in his chest as he listened to her words. He'd been so wrapped up in his total self pity and obsession that it hadn't even occurred to him what she might have been going through.

"God I'm sorry Linds. I honestly had no idea...I know that's not an excuse and I don't mean it to be. I should have realised..."

"I understood, Danny. I knew it would be incredibly difficult for you to deal with being paralysed again and losing Flack at the same time. But I wasn't prepared for you to shut me out like you did and for you to blame our son."

Danny wiped his hands over his face as he felt himself start to cry. He hadn't cried in so long, like an unemotional block of wood but suddenly he felt he could.

"I love you, Linds. What can I do to stop me from losing you?" he asked quietly.

Lindsay looked at him. "Nothing."

Danny choked a sob and looked down at his hands.

"Nothing because you never lost me. I've hated these past two weeks, being without you. It was even worse than being with you and trying to deal with how you were. I don't ever want to split up from you again," she cried.

"Oh God," Danny sobbed in a high pitched tone. He gingerly stretched out an am and touched her cheek. "I love you, I love you...I'm so, so sorry."

Lindsay leant forward and held him against her, kissing his head.

"I just need you to promise you'll talk to me from now on," she murmured.

"Of course...anything..." he nodded.

He pulled his head away and stared into her eyes for a moment. Then he leant forward and gently kissed her.

"HHHHOOOONNNNKKKKK!"

They broke apart in shock and turned around. Mr Woo was pointing at them, laughing and waving from out of the car window.

"What the hell was that?"

They turned back to the building and saw Adam there with Donny in his arms, the baby was crying fiercely.

"Our neighbour," Danny muttered embarrassedly as Lindsay stood up. "He gave me a lift."

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't get him to stop, I think he wanted his Mummy," Adam said awkwardly.

"That's okay Adam," Lindsay smiled. "I'll take him."

"No!"

They both turned to look at Danny who wheeled himself nearer.

"I'll take him."

Lindsay smiled and then nodded to Adam who passed Donny to Danny.

"Hey little guy," Danny said softly as he held the baby in his arms. He began cradling it and softly rocking it back and forth.

"I'm your Daddy," he smiled and the baby blinked his bright blue eyes up at him. Slowly, it started to stop crying.

"How did you do that?" Adam muttered.

"Father's touch," Lindsay smiled happily.

Danny grinned at them and then looked back down at his son. He felt a warmth spread through him and suddenly he laughed, not loudly for fear of disturbing the baby but happily.

"I love him, Linds," Danny said as he looked up at her, tears of joy in his eyes. "I can feel I love him."

Lindsay placed a hand on his shoulder and cried happily. "Let's go home, Danny. I want to go home."

"Sure thing, though I suggest we call a cab," Danny laughed, looking back at Mr Woo who had started smoking his pipe in the car.

Just then Michelle appeared from the building holding Lucy's hand. "We were wondering where everyone had got to?" she smiled.

"Daddy!" Lucy squealed in excitement as she ran over to Danny.

"Hey, Lucylumpy," Danny grinned as he put an arm round her and she hugged into his side.

"I missed you, Daddy," she said quietly. "And I not a lumpy. Donny looks more like a lumpy than me."

All four adults laughed at her words, knowing that what she meant was kind of true. Lindsay smiled down at her husband, their two children wrapped tightly within his arms and felt happier than she had done in months.

Danny grinned up at his wife and then kissed the top of his daughter's head before looking back down at his son.

"I love you, Donny," he whispered.

* * *

Mac watched as the digital numbers flickered before his eyes and yawned. It was exactly three months to the day since Don had been murdered. If he was honest he'd felt like holing up in his apartment and never leaving it ever again but instead he'd decided to be brave. He'd gone back to work instead, his first proper day back. Three months was enough time to mourn, he'd told Sinclair, leaving out the bit where he still had visions of his dead lover. They were, however, getting less and less and Mac supposed it was because he was on the mend. Stella had made him see sense that he couldn't recover by himself and he needed the support of his friends around him. Sal had made him see that if others could move on, despite suffering things even worse than he had, then he could move on too. Henry had been supportive too, he'd felt almost the same, guilty for hurting Don while at the same time a huge sense of loss at losing a part of himself. He and Mac had spent some time together, sharing their memories of Don and over that time Mac had come to realise how very different the two Flack twins actually were. They may have looked the same, sounded the same and walked the same but they were almost complete opposites in some ways and Mac found knowing that made it easier for him to be around Henry. Finally, the image of Don that he'd been seeing, while it may not have been real, had still helped him to get over the guilt he felt at Don's death and be assured that their relationship hadn't been a lie.

Mac blinked and paused the tape. One hour and fourteen minutes, that was what Henry had said. Mac went back to the sofa and pressed play. Immediately a view of a school auditorium came up where a group of small girls in tutus were dancing about on the stage. Mac frowned and forwarded the tape through their dance until they went off. The camera zoomed in on a piano that was rolled onto the stage and then suddenly a boy Mac had no trouble in recognising came on and sat down behind it. Don. He was so tall and gangly, Mac laughed, and his hair was huge and fluffy. Don started to play a tune and Mac smiled as he watched. 'Claude Debussy; Arabesque I' if he was not mistaken. It was once again beautiful...so Don had always been talented in this way. Mac felt pleased he could share memories of Don's later life with Henry and that in return Henry was able to give him moments like this, moments of the Don he never really knew.

"I told you not to watch that."

Mac smiled and turned to the young man beside him.

"I thought you'd gone," Mac replied.

Don shrugged. "I'm only here when you want me to be."

"I guess I was missing you," Mac mused, watching the young Don on the screen.

"My hair was so bad back then," Don smiled.

"It was bad when I first met you," Mac laughed.

"I like to think I had some style," Don replied.

Mac laughed again. It felt good to do so. "Were you always that good at playing the piano?"

"Maybe," Don said shyly.

"You know what I think?" Mac said sternly. "I think that whole Nutcracker story you told me was made up. I think really you actually liked Classical music, all of it but you just were too embarrassed to tell me."

"Guess you'll never really know," Don replied quizzically.

The tune ended and Don stood and bowed to the clapping audience before walking off stage and Mac turned off the tape.

"I'll be watching that again later on," he teased.

"You seem happier," Don replied, turning to look at him.

"I am," Mac nodded. "Talking with my friends helped...and talking with you."

"I'm glad I could help."

"I think you were right," Mac frowned. "My mind was trying to help me but didn't know how. Conjuring you up was its way of making me face my own fears...my own guilt...and making me deal with it."

Don blinked and smiled softly at Mac. "Guess you won't be seeing me around again then."

Mac sighed and moved his hand closer to Don but just out of reach.

"Part of me never wants you to go. But I know that to live in a world of imagination is to not really live at all. I need to get back to reality. I went back to work today."

"How was it?" Don asked.

"The usual," Mac nodded. "A basketball player had been killed."

Don frowned in thought. "Like the Chopper Tevis case," he replied. "Do you remember it?"

"Of course I remember that case," Mac said softly. "How could I forget?"

"I never forgot either," Don said solemnly.

Mac knew of course what he meant. The case seven years ago where Chopper Tevis had been found dead on a basketball court had been the first time Mac had ever told Don he loved him. Yet it had been difficult, Don had hated him so much during that case, but Mac had persevered, never wanting to lose the man he truly loved.

_As Mac left Kendra Tevis' apartment with Don the woman's words echoed round his head._

_"He wanted to get back together, another chance but I said 'hell, no!' I'd already let him go."_

_Mac watched as Don strode away from him down the corridor to the stairs. Normally they'd be walking side by side, discussing the case but ever since Don had returned to work the young man had pretty much ignored him unless he had to speak to him about a case. Even then he was cold and blank unless one of the others was with them, then it was almost as if he was trying a little too hard, every word out of his mouth a witty comment or sarcastic remark. _

_Mac had thought he could handle it, working with Don again, seeing him again every day. He realised now he'd been naive to think that. He'd been on the verge of falling in love with the young detective and it was only now that Mac realised how far past that point he actually was. He still loved Don very much, deep within his heart, despite his relationship with Peyton. It had been easy at first. Don was away, still recovering and Mac hadn't had to see him. Don's absence had done wonders for Mac to get over him and he'd found himself a sensible partner and moved on. Everything had been going so well. Then Don returned and little by little, Mac's defences had broken down. Each glance, each spoken word, each brush...every time he saw him, every time he smelt him, every time he longed to taste him again. It was killing Mac._

_"He wanted to get back together, another chance but I said 'hell, no!' I'd already let him go."_

_Kendra's words stabbed him like a knife. What if it was too late for him as well? He cared very much for Peyton, she was clever, beautiful, funny...but she wasn't Don. But what exactly did Don think now? Would he even want him back? Had he moved on too? Let him go? _

_"Don?" Mac called._

_The tall detective paused and gave a visible sigh. He turned and stared coldly at Mac._

_"What?" he snapped._

_"I...err...I was wondering how you were?" Mac asked. It was probably the stupidest thing he'd ever said._

_Don stared at him even more coldly, if that was possible. His look said it all._

_"I..." Mac started._

_Don was giving off no tell-tale signs. A blank canvas._

_"I...um," Mac really had no idea what to say._

_Something snapped._

_"What? What do you want, Mac? Cos it's clearly not me!" Don snarled._

_"Look, I hate this awkwardness between us."_

_"Not my problem," Don snapped._

_"Don, please. I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry for what I did...I never should have..."_

_"Can't change the past Mac. So just deal with it. I have."_

_"Despite what you think, I did it for you, Don. It felt like I was taking advantage of someone who was young and too inexperienced to know what he wanted. You would have lost your job, your family, possibly friends too. You're entire life would have been gone, everything you ever hoped for..."_

_"Stop it!" grinded Don, his lower lip trembling. "Just stop it. You may think you have your reasons for what you did, excuses...and I hope they convince you that you did the right thing, I really do. But you forgot about the one thing that should have been the biggest part of your decision...me. Everything you're saying is about me and yet you never asked...never...I..."_

_Don took a deep breath to calm himself._

_"I know about Peyton, Mac."_

_Mac stared at him in dread. He'd missed his chance. Don was slowly disappearing from his grasp. Don stared at him for a moment more, hoping for a response of any kind but Mac continued to stare dumbly at him. Don shook his head in disgust and left. Mac watched him go. _

Mac shook his head as he remembered that look in Don's eyes, that look of utter hurt and betrayal and he had been the one to cause it. It had taken every ounce of his strength back then to go and see Don later on to try and win him round.

_Mac took a deep breath and then banged on the door before he chickened out and ran from the place. He waited for roughly two minutes before banging again. Maybe no-one was in? Just as he was considering leaving he heard the lock slide back and then the door was opened. A sleepy looking, tousle-haired Don was standing there in just a black vest and boxers. Mac suddenly realised that it must be very late, or early, depending on how you looked at it. He'd stayed late at the lab with Stella putting away the evidence and talking over the case. She'd mentioned that Don had taken rather a beating when he'd chased a suspect and Mac had been worried. He'd gone home and poured himself a strong drink, mulling over the day's events. He had an incredible urge to go and see Don to check he was okay. Peyton had called twice but Mac had let the machine pick up. He couldn't face talking to her today. After another drink for Dutch courage he'd put his coat back on and taken a cab to Don's apartment. And here he was._

_Don's eyes widened when he saw Mac standing at his door._

_"Mac? What the hell? It's 1am!" Don said sleepily. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand._

_"I need to come in," Mac stated and then pushed past Don without waiting for an answer._

_He heard the door close behind him and then turned back to the detective who was looking much more awake now. Mac noticed the two large bruises on his cheek and forehead, the result of the beating Stella had mentioned._

_"Why are you here, Mac?" Don asked. He didn't sound angry. Maybe he was still half asleep. Or maybe he was just tired of going over this again._

_"We need to talk."_

_"I have nothing else to say to you."_

_"Fine. Then I'll talk. You listen."_

_Don pursed his lips and looked reluctant. He glanced back at the front door and then sighed._

_"Whatever."_

_He padded to his kitchen and turned on the cold tap. Then he took a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with the cool liquid. He didn't offer Mac anything. He turned off the tap and then leant against the side without turning around to look at Mac._

_"Thought you were talking?" Don muttered as sipped his drink._

_"Chopper made a mistake, Don," Mac stated. "He made a mistake and it changed his life forever. He was trying to put it right, trying to do right by those he loved, even if they didn't want him back. It's a tragedy that his life was taken before he could fix things. He was a good man, Don. He just made a mistake, one that he regretted till the day he died."_

_Mac saw Don's back tense and wondered what the younger man was thinking. He wished he'd turn around._

_"People make mistakes all the time, it's what makes us human. And they have to live with them, deal with the consequences for the rest of their lives."_

_Don placed his glass on the surface and it made a loud noise._

_"I made a mistake, Don. And it's one I'll live with for the rest of my life. One I'll always regret."_

_A shudder ran down Don's back and Mac stepped closer._

_"Knowing that I might have lost you is one of the most painful things I've ever experienced, Don."_

_Mac took another step closer to Don._

_"I know I have a lot to make up for. A lot I need to put right with you."_

_Mac took one more step and then he was standing directly behind Don._

_"I love you, Don..."_

_Mac heard Don whimper and he gently leant forward until he was touching Don's back. _

_"Can you ever forgive me?"_

_He felt another shudder run down Don's spine and he gently stroked the fingertips of his right hand over Don's hipbone. He leant his head closer and softly nuzzled into the back of Don's neck. He could hear the younger man gasping for breath, choking on the suffocating atmosphere between them._

_"Please...Please forgive me, Don. I love you so much..."_

_Don released a cry and leant back into Mac, needing the support, needing Mac._

_"I got you," Mac murmured and wound his arms around Don's waist, holding him close, tight._

_"Mac..." Don said quietly._

_"I'm never letting go, Don," Mac said softly._

_Don slowly turned and Mac cried out when he saw the detective's face was stained with tears. He reached up and wiped them off his cheeks._

_"I'll never hurt you again, I promise."_

_Don stared at him with wide eyes and then he suddenly kissed Mac. It was desperate, wanton and Mac quickly responded, returning the kiss with just as much need as the younger man._

_Neither of them spoke again that night. They hadn't even made it to the bedroom before Mac was removing Don's vest while the younger man pulled off his coat and jacket. The sex had been just as needy and desperate as the kiss, as though both men had been denying their craving for each other for so long it had become unbearable. The next morning Mac had promised Don he'd leave Peyton, as soon as it was suitable, he'd tell her it was over and then he and Don could truly be a couple once again._

"I treated you so badly back then," Mac said in disgrace.

Don nodded a little sadly. "I know we had our ups and downs, that you broke my heart, then mended it, then broke it again and then mended it so firm that it was stronger than ever, stronger than before. I don't regret one minute of our time together, Mac," he said

"Nothing?" Mac murmured.

"You loved me Mac, despite hurting me, you always loved me. And because of that I always knew we'd be together," Don smiled. "In the end."

"But it's not the end," Mac replied.

"It is for me," Don whispered as he stood up.

"I won't see you again, will I?" Mac asked as he looked up at him.

"If you look hard enough," Don smiled. He walked to the door of the lounge and paused. "Mac?"

"Yes?" Mac replied.

"You should make up with Danny. Go and see him. He still loves you and he needs you now more than ever."

Mac watched as Don walked through the doorway and then he sighed. He knew he should go and see Danny; it was the one last thing that he had to do on his path to recovery. Mac stretched out his back and then stood and walked to the hallway to grab his coat.

* * *

Danny was sitting in his chair watching TV with his wife. They'd arrived home about an hour ago and the two kids had been so sleepy that they'd put them straight to bed. Danny couldn't stop grinning, as though he had only just cottoned onto the idea that he had a son. Lindsay couldn't stop grinning because Danny couldn't.

"I'm glad you're here" Danny smiled at her.

"I'm glad you are," she said softly and they both knew what she meant.

"I can't believe I was so stupid," Danny said in disbelief.

"What was it that made you realise?" Lindsay asked in interest.

Danny smiled at her quite shyly. "It was Flack."

"What?" Lindsay frowned.

"Flack," Danny repeated. "I dreamt of him. He told me that my family needed me...that you still loved me...that I needed to live for you."

Lindsay moved to the edge of the couch and touched his hand.

"Sounds dumb, doesn't it?" Danny shrugged.

"No, no it doesn't," Lindsay replied. "It sounds like he's still got your back, even from beyond the grave."

"You think it was really him?" Danny asked.

Lindsay smiled in thought. "I think whatever it was, it was what you needed to hear, and who better to tell you the flat out truth than Flack?"

Danny exhaled in amusement. "Yeah, he was always good at that...no tact..."

"I love you, Danny," Lindsay said sincerely and then leant forward and kissed him. As they broke apart a beautiful tune was playing from the TV...Fred Astaire.

_Heaven, I'm in heaven... _

"Dance with me," Lindsay asked as she stood and held a hand out.

_And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak..._

"Linds..." Danny muttered helplessly. "I can't..."

_And I seem to find the happiness I seek..._

"Yes you can," she laughed as she grabbed hold of his chair and spun him round as she danced beside him.

_When were out together dancing cheek to cheek._

Danny laughed loudly and held his hands onto his wife's waist.

From across the alley Mr Woo watched them from his window and smiled to himself; better to light a candle than to curse the darkness, he thought.

The dancing couple were interrupted by a knock to their door and Lindsay went over to answer it, still laughing.

"Mac," she said in shock as she opened it.

Mac was stood at their door, a cardboard box in his hands. He coughed and cleared his throat.

"I was wondering if I might speak to Danny?" he asked severely.

"Mac," Danny said as he wheeled himself to the door and Lindsay stepped back. "Yeah, come on in."

Mac nodded and walked in while Danny pushed the door shut.

"I brought you some of Don's things I thought you might want," Mac said quietly.

"Thanks, Mac," Lindsay smiled. "Let me take them from you."

She took the box and then looked between the two men. "I'll just go and check on Donny. You guys talk in the lounge."

Mac smiled at her in thanks and walked to the couch to sit down. Danny followed him over and stopped nearby.

"Danny..." Mac started.

"No, Mac. I think I should go first," Danny interrupted.

Mac looked surprised but let the younger man continue.

"I've been such a jerk these past few months, not just to you, but to everyone. I was so bitter about being back in this chair...and losing Flack...losing Don was hard," he sniffed.

"It was," Mac agreed quietly.

"You know, I miss him so much," Danny said, trying hard not to cry as he thought of his lost friend.

"I know," Mac nodded.

"But it's no excuse. Flack was such a hero, such a good guy and..." Danny sighed tiredly. "And he would have been ashamed to call me a friend the way I've been acting... the way I treated you."

"I understood your pain, Danny. I didn't blame you for shouting at me."

"No, Mac. That was wrong. It wasn't your fault any of this happened and I hope you know that."

"I do," Mac nodded. "It took me a very long time to accept it, but I finally know that."

"Good," Danny smiled. He took in a breath and looked round his lounge, thinking of all the times Flack had been there with them.

"You think he's in a good place?" he asked quietly.

"Without a doubt," Mac murmured. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Danny."

Danny looked back at Mac. "But I'm okay now, Mac. And I have a wonderful wife and daughter and son. And hopefully I still have you?"

Mac smiled at the man he thought of as a son. "Of course you do."

"I love you, Mac," Danny murmured.

"I love you too, Danny," Mac replied.

"You want to meet my son?" Danny asked.

Mac smiled. "I'd love to."

The two men went into the bedroom and saw Lindsay leaning into the cot where Donny lay.

"Oh, Mac..." she said embarrassedly. "I'm so sorry. I was just looking through the box you brought and he grabbed it off me. He won't let it go."

Mac and Danny exchanged a frown and then they both went over and looked into the cot. Donny was lying there, Don's flat cap in his hands, chewing on one side of it happily.

"It's okay, Lindsay," Mac smiled.

"He really is a little Don," Danny laughed.

"Sure is," Mac agreed. "No one else ever liked that hat."

All three of them laughed and baby Don giggled in his pram.

"He's never giggled before," Lindsay told them.

"Don had that affect on people," Mac stated.

Silently, the other two agreed with his words.

* * *

A/N – Both flashbacks from 3x05.

Thanks to Dag Hammarskjold, Sophocles and Seneca for three quotations used in this chapter.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N – I am really sad to be posting this last chapter. Hope you have enjoyed this story, I loved wriritng it. And thank you one last time to everyone who reviewed and supported me to do this.

* * *

**Israel - Chapter Twenty-One**

As police officers in this big, complicated city we see so much bad. So many souls filled with hatred and violence and it's our job to look for them, chase after them and confront them. Over time they can become all we see. As with all evil some good will always come from it. It can bring us together with some of the most dedicated, honourable, kind-hearted people we could ever hope to meet. It can fill hearts with a love so strong that it will endure forever and create unbreakable friendships that will last even in the face of life's most difficult challenges.

Sometimes the good comes when we most need it and least expect it. If we are lucky enough to notice it, set our eyes upon it and appreciate it, it can almost make us forget all of the bad. Today is life, the only life you're sure of, make the most of today. Words of wisdom, a slice of goodness passed on by an innocent soul whose life was cut short by an errant bullet. These are words that will always stay with me, words that changed the course of my life forever a year ago this very day.

* * *

Mac sighed as he finished up his last piece of paperwork and placed it back into the folder. Then he closed it and filed it away in his out tray for the morning. It had been a long, hard day but pleasant enough considering the past four months in which Don had left them. He hadn't seen Don again, not since that day they'd watched the old VHS of him playing the piano together, but then Mac hadn't expected to see him again. He had finally moved on, not that he had let Don go, the young man would forever remain in his heart, but he had moved on in the spirit of living. Mac smiled as he looked up and watched Lindsay and Adam laughing together in the lab opposite his office. She seemed happy and Mac was glad that she and Danny had managed to put aside their troubles and move on. They were truly meant to be with one another. Adam had sent out invitations to his wedding next year and Mac knew that would be just the sort of joyous occasion they all needed. His gaze moved to Sid and Hawkes standing outside the elevators. Sid had informed him just the other day that his cancer was in complete remission and Hawkes and told everyone excitedly that he was moving in with Jamie and that made Mac smile. It was good to see that the others were all getting on with their lives, just as he was. They had hope, hope for life, hope for the future and that was the point. Hope that wasn't a feeling of certainty that everything would end well, but hope that was simply a feeling that their lives, their work had meaning.

"Are you still here, Mac Taylor?" Jo asked as she leant against his doorframe.

"I was just leaving," Mac murmured, one eyebrow raised.

"Good, because there's no more work to be done here, so you get off and enjoy that evening of yours."

"I will," Mac stated as he picked up the newspaper on his desk and walked toward the door. He suddenly paused, frowned and turned back towards his office.

"When did that get there?" he asked.

Jo came forward and stood next to him.

"Now you can't tell me you haven't noticed that, Mac Taylor. It's been there for days now."

"Days, really?" Mac asked, looking at her in amusement.

"Mmhm," Jo nodded. "It took me such an age to find superglue that was strong enough to fix it and then I've had it back at my place until a suitable time."

Mac smiled at her, touched by the gesture. "Thank you, Jo," he said in earnest.

"You're very welcome," she replied and gently touched his arm.

Mac smiled at her as she left his office and then turned back to look at the leafy plant in its newly mended pot. Don's leafy plant...to remind him of Don every day and the love they had shared. Mac nodded in approval.

* * *

Danny wheeled his chair out onto the court, the little girl trudging along by his side. He smiled across at her, the huge basketball she carried looking even bigger in her tiny arms. He was going to teach her how to play some ball, or at least how to throw and catch. So much had happened in the past month since Lindsay had moved back home. He'd applied for a volunteering job at Flack's old YMCA that he'd seen in Lindsay's letter; to coach a newly formed wheelchair basketball team and had been offered the position. It seemed he had a natural talent for the sport as he had previously been an excellent basketball played and the wheels didn't stop him, in fact he almost found it easier. He was hoping if he built up enough strength in his upper body he might even get to play professionally, then he could become the big sports star he'd always wanted to be. Louie would have been proud of him...so would've Flack.

"Is this good, Daddy?" Lucy asked, stopping in the middle of the court.

"That's great, Luce, now throw the ball to me."

Lucy grinned and chucked the ball as far as she could. It bounced off his knees and she went chasing after it, laughing excitedly.

"Hmmm," Danny hummed to himself. "This may take a while."

They played for half an hour, the little girl running about everywhere and squealing in delight whenever she managed to catch the ball and squealing even louder when her father did. After a bit Danny showed her some of his skills and she clapped along excitedly as she watched.

"My hero!"

Danny turned and grinned at his wife as she laughed at him.

"Hey, babe," he said breathlessly, rolling himself towards where she was standing with baby Donny.

"I got your message and thought we'd head on down here once I'd collected him from your Ma's."

"How was work?" Danny asked.

"Fun," Lindsay smiled.

"Not how I remember it," Danny chuckled.

"And how was your work?" Lindsay asked.

"Amazing, some of the kids are really good," Danny nodded excitedly.

"That's great, Danny," Lindsay nodded, pleased he had so much motivation in his new work. "Hey, Luce, you want a game with Mummy?" she asked.

"Mummy," Lucy squealed and grabbed the ball from Danny, running back over to centre court.

"Good luck," Danny laughed as he watched Lindsay follow after the little girl. He glanced into the pram and saw Donny was awake.

"Hey there, buddy," he smiled. "You wanna watch your Mummy and sister play ball?" he asked as he gently lifted Donny from the pram and sat him on his lap, wheeling his chair over to the stands.

"Mummy's not very good, is she?" he chuckled as he watched his wife and daughter playing happily together, laughing and giggling to get the ball. For the first time in a long while he felt really happy.

"They're great aren't they?"

Danny smiled to himself as he heard the voice behind him but didn't turn around.

"I think I owe you an apology, Flack."

"Seeing you happy again is enough."

"If it wasn't for you I'd have..." Danny drifted off, unable to voice how close he'd been to the end.

"It wasn't me. It was your family, Danno."

At that moment Donny gave a loud giggle in Danny's arms and waved his arms about. Danny smiled fondly down at him.

"They mean the world to me."

"I know that."

"I can't believe I could ever have hated Don."

"Thank you, by the way, for the name."

"After the best man I've ever known," Danny said softly. He sighed and cuddled Don to him. After a moment he spoke again.

"It was you, with the job, wasn't it?" he asked, turning to look behind.

The wind whistling around him was the only reply he got. Flack was gone.

"Thank you, Flack," Danny whispered into the sky.

* * *

Mac smiled as he walked into the cafe and heard the bell above the door give a little ding. The place looked completely new. The walls had been re-plastered and painted; there were new tables and glass in the counter. If Mac hadn't known where he was, he would have assumed it was a completely different cafe to Sal's old one. He glanced about at the patrons and tilted his head in interest at them. Crust man was back with his bag of crusts, sitting at the same table as the woman with the hamster who was there, feeding bits of cake to her hamster. The pair were nattering quietly together and each had a twinkle in their eye. Moustache man, or non-moustache man as he now was, was sitting with the surviving gaping lady and the two were holding hands and staring lovingly at each other. Mac chuckled to himself.

"Mac Taylor!" boomed Sal as he came to the counter.

"Sal," Mac nodded. "I like what you've done with the place."

"Thank you, I figured it was time for a spruce up anyway."

"It looks very nice," Mac nodded.

"So is it the usual for you?" Sal asked.

"Not today thanks, Sal. I just needed to talk to Mungo actually."

"Oh," Sal said in surprise.

"Sal," Mac said quietly. "What happened?" he asked, nodding his head towards the others.

"Oh," Sal laughed. "Well when Harry got out of the hospital he put his foot down about going into the home, so his family let him be. He came back here and it turned out he had had Maude's hamster all the time. It had hidden in his coat."

"That's wonderful," Mac nodded.

"I think there might possibly be something there," Sal whispered slyly, giving Mac a wink.

"Quite possibly," Mac agreed.

"And after Felix tried to save Margot, Roberta went to say thank you to him and they got talking. They're a couple now."

Mac smiled happily at them. The two couples. Happiness born out of tragedy.

"Thanks, Sal," Mac nodded and wove his way over to Mungo who still sat staring out of the window.

"Hello, Mungo," Mac said.

The old man looked up at him, he seemed lost and scared.

"I have something for you," Mac smiled as he placed the newspaper he'd taken from his office down on the table.

Mungo frowned at it and then picked it up, staring blankly at it for a moment before a huge grin erupted on his face and then he began to rifle through it excitedly.

Mac smiled down at him, pleased he could have been of assistance in helping this poor, unhappy soul. Suddenly he felt a tugging on his coat and saw that Mungo was pulling on it.

"What is it?" Mac asked.

Mungo pointed to behind Mac at the small table set in the corner, away from the others and easy to miss for anyone who only glanced hurriedly around the room. Mac liked it because it was more peaceful there and he didn't have to put up with anyone taking notice of him.

"Yes, that's my usual table," Mac nodded.

Mungo just grinned at him and then went back to reading his paper.

Mac laughed a moment and then turned and made his way to his table, trying to see what was so interesting about it. He choked on his own breath as he got nearer, the blood in his veins freezing and his heart stammering to a pause as he finally saw what Mungo had been pointing out to him. It was Don. Don was sitting at the table staring at him. Mac slid into the seat opposite and gaped at the younger man in front of him.

"I thought you had gone?" he rasped.

Don smiled back at him. "I said if you looked hard enough you'd see me," he replied.

"Does this mean I'm still crazy?" Mac asked.

"Perhaps," Don said mystically. "That was a very kind thing you did for that man."

Mac nodded. "It didn't take more than thirty minutes for me to go down to the City Archives and get a copy of the correct paper. If it brings joy to the rest of his life then it was worth it."

"It's good to see you caring for others, Mac. It's such an essential part of your being," Don told him.

Mac exhaled in amusement. "I'm glad you know me so well," he smirked.

"I know you like I know myself," Don said honestly.

Mac smiled. "I miss you."

"I know. I miss you too."

"I still feel so empty without you."

Don looked sad. "When you feel like that lean on our friends, Mac. Bury your sorrows in doing good."

"I try to," Mac nodded. "But I can't help but imagine my life would be so much better if you hadn't been taken from me. This life I have now...it's hollow. I may be alive but I don't feel very much like this is living."

"Do not disdain life, Mac, it is our being, our all," Don said softly.

Mac was suddenly aware of how quiet it had become in the cafe and how dim it was too. He turned around and noticed how none of the people that had been there a moment before were there anymore. Not even Sal. Mac turned back to face Don and opened his mouth to question it but Don spoke first.

"It was God's will I should die, Mac, not yours and not mine. Death is a road we must all eventually take and all of us alone, it just came sooner for me than I'd thought."

"I don't believe in God," Mac stated. He may have been on the path to mending but his spite at God had still not abated. "He destroyed my life twice...taking Claire...taking you...I don't see the point in believing if his plan for me is to live my life in solitude."

"God's plan for us all leads us down a path of confusion but we struggle on and we survive," Don replied. "You survived, Mac. You moved on twice, never giving up hope, and are a stronger man for it. You wrestled with God and defeated him. You're Israel."

"What?" Mac frowned in confusion.

Don smiled at him. "And he said unto him, 'What is thy name?' And he said, 'Jacob.' And he said, 'Thy name shall be called no more Jacob, but Israel; for thou hast striven with God and with men, and hast prevailed.' You won out Mac, you rose from the ashes of tragedy a stronger and better man and with that you will find the courage to live on long after I am gone."

Mac stared open mouthed at Don as he uncurled his hand and pressed something into Mac's palm. Mac's eyes drifted down and looked at the cross and chain that had been placed there. His cross and chain, the one he had thrown in the trash back at his apartment so very long ago. He looked back up at Don and tried to speak but choked on his own words and coughed. He gasped for air and then tried again.

"You're really Don, aren't you?" he choked.

Don smiled. "I always have been."

"I...I don't understand," Mac stammered, completely at a loss as to what to do. He had never been faced with a situation like this in his life.

"I never left you, Mac," Don stated. "I knew you'd need me."

"You never left?" Mac coughed.

"I was always with you, looking out for you. How do you think Stella knew when to come? Who told you to make up with Danny? Who reassured you about all the doubts you were left with after my demise?"

"All this time...I thought you were just a part of my mind," Mac said sorrowfully.

"I was what you needed me to be," Don said wisely.

"And I have your forgiveness?" Mac choked.

"You never even needed it, Mac. I love you. I always have and always will. And that means you never need my forgiveness."

"Why are you here...now?" Mac asked, it suddenly occurring to him that it was a strange moment for Don to reveal his true self to him.

Don sighed and looked a little sad. "I need to go soon," he replied.

"I don't want you to leave. I don't want to be alone," Mac said miserably.

"You won't be alone, Mac. You have so many people around you who care. Lean on Danny, he loves you very much."

"I still feel I destroyed his life," Mac replied.

"He forgave you a long time ago, Mac. He doesn't blame you," Don said truthfully. "He needs you. He and Lindsay need you. They're your family."

Mac nodded, blinking his tears away unsuccessfully. "I wish so much you could stay, Don."

"It's my time, Mac. I have to go."

"Then how do I say goodbye?" Mac asked, tears in his eyes.

"You don't. Not where it counts," Don replied, smiling at Mac.

Mac nodded, feeling a tear drop down his cheek.

"Don't cry for me, Mac," Don said sadly. "Don't cry for a soul set free."

"I won't ever see you again, will I?" Mac asked.

"I'll always be a part of you, Mac."

Mac nodded sadly and blinked his tears away. "I think I need to get some fresh air."

Don smiled at him. "Take care of yourself, Mac."

"I love you, Don. I'll never forget you," Mac replied, standing up.

Don stood and moved towards Mac standing so close they were almost touching.

"I know you won't. My love will always be with you, Mac, just as it always has been."

Mac smiled and slowly walked to the door putting on his cross as he went. As he reached it he turned back for one moment, taking in his last fill of Don.

"Hey, Mac?"

"Hmm?"

"Promise me one thing?"

"Anything."

"When you leave here count to five before you turn the corner."

Mac frowned and then after a moment nodded. Not understanding but trusting.

"Goodbye, Don."

Don smiled goofily at him.

Mac opened the door and proceeded down the street, winding his way between the crowds of people milling there. No tears came to him. He wasn't sad. For the first time in a very long while he felt a sort of contentment within himself. He was finally at peace with himself, with God, with life and with the world. He'd let go of all his anger and grief. He'd let go of Don, knowing the man he loved would always be a part of him, but that he was to continue on in this life without him. He reached the corner and paused for a moment. He smiled as he remembered Don's words and decided to humour him.

One...

...

Two...

...

Three...

...

Four...

...

Five...

...

Mac turned and ran smack bang into some poor woman who dropped the paper bag she was carrying . Its contents spilt out all over the sidewalk. Apples, potatoes, oranges, eggs, pasta... everywhere. Mac almost rolled his eyes at Don's stupid sense of humour. He bent down to help her pick them up.

"I'm so sorry," he grunted. "I didn't see..."

"Mac? Mac Taylor?"

Mac looked up as she spoke his name and frowned when the pretty woman kneeling before him caused a spark of recognition in his mind.

"I...I err..."

"It's Christine. Christine Whitney. Stan's sister."

Mac stared at her for a moment and then recognition flooded through him.

"Christine," he murmured.

She smiled at him. "I haven't seen you in years, how've you been?"

"Well...I, hmm..." Mac mumbled shyly.

"That good?" she said kindly, eyebrows raised. "Look, I've got a free moment if you wanna grab a cup of coffee or something?"

Mac looked down for a moment. "I can't really. I don't think..."

He suddenly paused as a voice echoed through his head.

_"Promise me one thing...when you leave here, count to five before you turn the corner."_

Mac smiled to himself and nodded his head knowingly. Don had known. Don had wanted this.

"Actually, yeah. Coffee would be nice."

* * *

Don watched from a distance as Mac smiled at Christine and then they stood up together and started walking down the street, side by side. Mac finally looked happy. His job was done. He felt a soft hand on his arm and smiled as he turned to his companion.

"It's time," Claire said.

Don took one last look at Mac and then turned away. Claire took his hand and led him away from the bustling New York street. The noise suddenly died down as the streets and people started to fade away beneath him. In front of him he saw his beloved parents waiting for him. Jess was there too, just as beautiful as ever. And so was Aiden, a happy grin on her face and arms outstretched in welcome towards him.

It was heaven.

* * *

A/N – Anyone spot the line from 7x06?

Jacob is renamed "Israel" by God after he wrestles with an angel. (Genesis 32:28-29). The name "Israel" can be translated as; "God contended." "He who fights/struggles." "He who wrestles with God."

Hope you enjoyed it and maybe next time you watch an episode of csiny and see Mac and Flack in a scene together you might be reminded of this story and some hidden subtext in their interaction ;)


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